


Roads We Could Have Walked - Season Five

by Riley_Sivertsen



Series: Roads We Could Have Walked - BBC Merlin Re-imagining [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur and Gwen are a great team, Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone deserved better and I am giving it to them, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healthy Relationships, How Do I Tag This, Kilgharrah can suck it, M/M, Merlin makes his own choices, Once and Future Husbands, Team as Family, beautiful friendships, character growth is a thing bbc, semi canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riley_Sivertsen/pseuds/Riley_Sivertsen
Summary: This is one fan's re-imagining of BBC Merlin.Every season and most episodes re-told in the hopes of giving every character and story-line the story they deserved - or at least a story slightly different from what they got.This season in particular? Well, I'm making some pretty significant changes. I hope you love those changes as much as I do, I've had the best time ruining my emotions writing this!I am putting a lot of faith in my fellow fans here, since I only included the scenes I, well, wanted to!
Relationships: Gwencelot - Relationship, Merthur
Series: Roads We Could Have Walked - BBC Merlin Re-imagining [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603612
Comments: 139
Kudos: 176





	1. S5E1/2: Arthur's Bane Part One & Two

**Author's Note:**

> **** Much of this content is taken directly from the original script of BBC Merlin ****  
> This is my re-telling of BBC Merlin the way I wish it would have gone, going through most of the episodes in the whole series. The way I did that was by taking transcripts from each episode and go through and alter, add and remove according to my own preference.  
> I do not claim to have written any of the original content! This is a fan re-interpretation of the original show as it was aired. I love this show with all my heart and just want to share my dream version of it with the rest of the fandom <3
> 
> I love this fandom so much, you have all brought me so much joy <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episodes 1 and 2, series 5 of BBC Merlin - Arthur's Bane Part One & Two.
> 
> Their friends are missing, and Arthur will do anything to get them back. Meanwhile, Merlin receives a vision that shakes him to his core.
> 
> Merlin still maintained that this situation was not entirely his fault.  
> Sure, he was the one who triggered the trap that caught them, but if Arthur had just returned to Camelot for help like a reasonable King, they wouldn’t have been anywhere near the trap in the first place. Merlin had tried pointing that out to Arthur, and it had earned him a glare and a smack on the head. Merlin had returned the smack, and they had sat in silence ever since.  
> Well, dangled more than sat. And not so much silence as both of them grunting and whining as they adjusted and tried to find something resembling comfortable positions. They had already dropped Arthur’s sword – Arthur had dropped it – so getting loose wasn’t looking very likely. After a while, they managed to stop squirming. They were a tangle of limbs, but they weren’t going to find anything better.

“This should come as no surprise to any of you.” Arthur let his voice echo off the walls of the council room. Men – all older than himself – stared at him from their seats around the table. Arthur noticed more than one unhappy or worried expression. It only fuelled his motivation.

“But for anyone who does not know why I called this meeting…” Arthur picked up the roll of parchment on the table in front of him and unrolled it for all to see. “This document I have drawn up with the necessary legalities. It is a decree announcing the end to my father’s ban on magic, and declares freedom to any citizen of Camelot to practice sorcery, so long as their practices harm no one.”

Already he could see upset faces ready to argue with him. He raised his voice higher. “You all know that, as King, I have the right to enact this new decree as I see fit. However, I know the consequences of that. I have considered them privately and listened to you voice the same concerns. I know that fear, legitimate and otherwise, linger in our people after all the years of Uther Pendragon’s rule. That is why I will not declare this document law until it contains the signature of every person at this table.” Arthur put the scroll down and leaned on his fists against the table. “And you will sign it, even if I have to spend my last breath to convince you.”

Silence hung like thick smoke over the room. Eyes flickered to one another, to the scroll on the table, to Arthur’s unblinking stare of determination.

“You may discuss this amongst yourself while I deal with our missing men. However, I assure you, this is not something I intend to let go. Both myself and the Queen support this decree, and we will see it done.” Arthur straightened and bowed his head slightly to the table. “Gentlemen, I will leave you to it.”

With that, he left the council to what he was certain would be a very loud and very long conversation. He did not envy them. As long and hard as he knew this fight would be, he felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted.

_Finally_ he was truly doing something. Finally he was one step closer to fulfilling his promise to Merlin, and giving him and every other sorcerer in Camelot the freedom from persecution they deserved.

Right now, though, they had other urgent matters to concern themselves with. Gwaine and his men had not returned, and the search party had just returned.

*

“We know Gwaine and his men crossed the pass, here, at Isulfor.” Elyan traced his finger on the map before them. “But beyond that, there was no trace. The trail went cold.”

“What of this story that the fortress of Ismere has been occupied once more?” Arthur asked.

“I heard many rumours, sire. All of them had one name in common.” Elyan’s eyes flickered briefly towards Gwen and Lancelot, standing between him and Arthur. “Morgana.”

“Then we have no time to lose,” Arthur declared.

“What if the rumours are true, sire?” Merlin asked. He was standing to the side, keeping himself on the outside of the discussion even though Arthur kept telling him it wasn’t necessary. Everyone in this room considered him an equal, regardless of rank. Still, Merlin insisted on standing on the sidelines – though it didn’t stop him from speaking up occasionally.

“The Knights of Camelot do not abandon their own,” Arthur said firmly.

“Morgana knows that,” Lancelot added. “She’ll be waiting.”

“These men have fought for me, bled for me.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Gwen interrupted. “What if you were to take a different route? Approach Ismere from the West.”

“Through Annis’ lands?” Lancelot asked. “It would certainly take Morgana by surprise.”

“Would Annis grant safe passage to so many armed men?” Arthur asked Leon, who knew most about that region.

“I believe she would, sire,” Leon confirmed.

“Dispatch a rider immediately,” Arthur ordered. “We’ll follow at dawn. Remember, if we’re to succeed, no-one must know of our intentions.

As everyone left the room, Arthur and Merlin lingered. Only once the room was clear and the door closed did Merlin come forward, getting a good look at the maps on the table as his hand automatically went to linger on Arthur’s back. Arthur smiled to himself at that.

“You know Morgana,” Merlin said. “We cannot rule out the fact that she could still see us coming.”

“Optimistic as always, Merlin.” Arthur took Merlin’s hand and pulled his attention away from the maps. “There is much to prepare before we leave. This might be the only moment of solitude we get before we ride out. Do you really want to waste it staring at maps?”

Merlin smiled, and Arthur was delighted that after all this time, a blush still crept up his ears when Arthur pulled him close.

“When you put it that way…” Merlin trailed off, and offered no further arguments when Arthur started to kiss him, and soon the maps were all but forgotten, at least for a little while.

*

Hardly over a day into their journey, the knights were searching through an abandoned camp they’d come across, looking for survivors of whatever happened in this place.

Merlin, however, was searching for something else.

_Emrys_ …

There it was a second time. A voice in his head, calling him. A Druid, he was certain. Merlin followed the voice into a cave. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and he saw the man lying by a pool of water. Merlin rushed to his side. His life was fading fast.

“What happened to you?” Merlin asked, kneeling by his side. “Who did this to your village?”

“That it happened at all is what matters,” the Druid said, sounding like he struggled with every word. “I have been haunted by this moment for many years… since long before you set foot on this Earth, Emrys; I have waited for its arrival with sorrow in my heart.”

Merlin’s blood ran cold at the dying man’s words.

“For even as Camelot flowers, so the seeds of her destruction are being sown,” the man continued hoarsely. “The prophets speak of Arthur’s bane. You would do well to fear it, for it stalks him like a ghost in the night. Unless you act quickly, Emrys, even you cannot alter the never-ending circle of his… fate.”

The dying man’s hand fell into the pool of water beside him, and Merlin felt as though he was pulled into the water, into the images that suddenly rippled across the surface. A young man, familiar somehow but Merlin couldn’t quite place the face. He walked across a flaming, dying field towards Arthur, who stood injured, awaiting him. The two men met and their swords crossed in a flash of metal. Merlin felt frozen in place, helpless to do anything but watch as the young man’s sword pierced Arthur’s body, and the king fell to the ground.

“Is he alive?”

The voice tore Merlin back to himself, to his own body kneeling beside the now dead man by the pool. He blinked against reality and saw Arthur standing in the mouth of the cave.

Whatever the look on Merlin’s face was, it can’t have been good. Arthur’s voice was full of concern. “What is it?”

Merlin could only stare at Arthur, seeing him alive and upright. Not injured, not dying. Yet he could still hear the sound of the sword piercing armour… Merlin blinked against the tears he hadn’t noticed, and then Arthur was there, arms around him, and Merlin clung to him like they had been separated for years rather than minutes.

“What’s going on?” Arthur asked, confused, but his hand moved in circles over Merlin’s back as he tried to comfort the sorcerer.

Merlin had to try twice before he was able to get the words out and tell Arthur about the vision he had just been shown. “It was so real, Arthur. I watched you die.”

“Shh, love.” Arthur leaned back and took Merlin’s face between his hands, wiping at the tears on his cheeks. “I’m right here, alive and well. I have every intention to stay that way for a long time to come.”

Arthur wanted to lure a smile from Merlin, but the ghost of fear still haunted his eyes as if the vision was still before him. “Merlin.” He spoke more firmly, and as he no doubt hoped, Merlin’s instincts as a servant reacted to the kingly tone. He seemed to snap back into focus.

“I’m here,” Merlin assured him. “Just…” He shook his head, uncertain.

“It’s alright,” Arthur said. “We will talk later, when you’ve had some time. Now come on. As soon as we’ve given these people a proper burial, we’re moving out.”

Merlin nodded. “Once we set camp tonight… I need to go speak to the dragon. See if he knows anything about this vision.”

Arthur swallowed. He never liked Merlin talking to the dragon, and he hadn’t made a secret of it to Merlin. Partly because of all the damage the dragon had caused to Camelot – though Arthur could understand that the pain of being the last of his kind had motivated it – but also because from what Arthur understood, the great dragon was at least partly responsible for all the fear Merlin had carried with him since he arrived in Camelot.

The dragon’s words always weighed heavily on Merlin, forcing him to consider ancient wisdom over his own mind, and Arthur didn’t like that. He didn’t trust that the dragon had Merlin’s best interest at heart. But he knew the beast was one of the few places Merlin could go for advice about the world of magic, so he said nothing.

*

They arrived at Annis’ castle without incident, and the feast she was kind enough to throw for Arthur and his knights was going smoothly. Ever since they had become allies, Arthur enjoyed the company of the queen. She was always straightforward, never forcing him to perform the usual obligatory chatter before getting to a point.

Which is why Arthur shouldn’t have been surprised when Annis raised a controversial topic just a few minutes into the first course.

“I hear rumours, Arthur Pendragon, that you are trying to lift the ban on magic that your father enforced so religiously.” She looked him straight in the eye, not allowing for any awkwardness. “Is this true?”

Arthur took a drink from his wine before meeting her eyes again. “Yes, Your Majesty, it is. I have come to believe that it is _people_ who can be evil, whether or not they have magic. I no longer think it fair that those with magic must live in fear when they are no more likely to cause harm than anyone else.”

Annis considered him for a very long moment. “You know,” she said finally, “I have spent much time considering this subject. I saw for myself the blinding hatred in Morgana’s eyes those years ago. I could see that her hatred was born of fear.”

Annis took a bite of her meat, chewed and swallowed before she continued. “I do not believe that fear would have given birth to such hatred if she had not been so terrified of what Uther would have done if he learned of her magic.” She lifted her cup towards Arthur. “What you are trying to do will not be easy, it will be an uphill battle, but I believe it could make the realms a happier and safer place. If you succeed, you have my full support.”

Arthur was so surprised by this that it took him a moment before he was able to raise his own cup to hers, and they drank together.

If Queen Annis could see the good that could come from this, perhaps it was not quite as hopeless as Arthur had feared.

*

“Where did you learn to juggle like that?” Arthur asked when they were alone in the room Annis had provided. “Honestly, I didn’t even know you could catch. Did you cheat and use magic?”

Merlin grinned mischievously. “No, I just have many talents. You’ve failed to notice some of them, that’s all.”

But Merlin’s smile faded quickly as he continued preparing the bed. Arthur noticed the change, the return of Merlin’s tension from the forest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not sure we should go to Ismere.” Merlin said it fast, low, like he was ashamed of the words leaving his mouth. Arthur let out a breath. He should have realised Merlin couldn’t let this go so easily.

“Is this about what the dragon said?” Arthur asked. “Just because he told you the vision is reliable, does not mean it will come to pass at all, let alone on this journey.”

Merlin looked up at him from the other side of the bed. “You don’t know it won’t. You looked no different in the vision than you do right now, Arthur. You could hardly have aged between now and then.”

“You heard Annis. The men are alive.”

“You don’t know that for certain.” Merlin couldn’t even look at Arthur as he said this. Arthur circled the bed until he stood beside Merlin.

“I don’t think I realised exactly how much this haunted you,” he admitted, keeping his voice free from judgment. “But it must have been worse than I thought if you’re willing to suggest leaving Gwaine behind.”

Merlin flinched like Arthur had hit him. Arthur wrapped his arms around him rather than leave Merlin alone with his fears and guilt.

“I don’t want that,” Merlin said into the crook of Arthur’s neck. “You know I want to save Gwaine and the rest as much as you do.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Arthur said. “No matter what adversity we face, we stand for what’s right. I am going to rescue my men.”

Merlin whispered something against Arthur’s skin that he couldn’t quite make out, but he thought he heard the words _or die at your side_. He wanted to argue and ask Merlin to repeat that, but Merlin had already untangled from Arthur and returned to prepare for bed.

Arthur wasn’t sure if his words helped, but Merlin stopped arguing for their return, stopped arguing at all, in fact. He went to blow out the candles across the room, and Arthur couldn’t help it; he needed to see Merlin smile.

When Merlin started to walk back to the bed, Arthur took a comb from the bed table and threw it at him. Merlin went to catch it, but missed and the comb fell to the floor.

“See, explain that! You were definitely cheating with magic.”

The smile he’d been hoping for came as Merlin shook his head at him. “I’ll never tell. It’s much more fun to watch your brain trying to work it out.”

Next Arthur threw a pillow at him, but that one Merlin caught and threw back. Thus proceeded a very dignified pillow fight between the king and his sorcerer which resulted in them both falling asleep exhausted, with laughter still lingering on their lips.

*

As soon as they were back on their journey, Merlin’s mood plummeted again, and by the time they camped the next night, all he could think about was the sound of a sword piercing Arthur’s armour. He couldn’t bring himself to sit with the others, right in the middle of their laughing and casual banter. He placed himself a little away from the fire, contenting himself with staring into the darkness by the water, tormenting himself with the repeated vision of Arthur’s life draining from his eyes.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he heard steps behind him and Arthur sat down beside him on the ground.

“Merlin,” he said softly.

“I understand why they laugh and joke,” Merlin said. “But I can’t do it with them right now. Not when I’ve seen what we might face in Ismere.”

“A warrior learns to enjoy each day as it comes,” Arthur said.

“Because he knows it might be his last,” Merlin finished. He had heard these words from Arthur many times before. Merlin struggled to swallow.

“You know this vision is unlikely to come true. You’ve said yourself that visions can be avoided. Why are you so upset by this?”

“Morgana is powerful,” Merlin said. “She’s dangerous.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t care?”

Arthur let out a deep breath. “Of course I do. But I care more about my men. They are more than friends, more than brothers. No matter what lies ahead of me…I can’t abandon them, as I know they would not abandon me.”

Merlin leaned against Arthur’s side, and Arthur automatically put his arm around Merlin’s shoulders.

“I understand,” Merlin said sadly. “I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

“I know,” Arthur said. He kissed Merlin’s head, and Merlin enjoyed one moment of feeling safe in Arthur’s arms.

“Come and have some food,” Arthur suggested after a while. “You don’t want me distracted with worry that you might pass out from hunger, do you?”

Merlin coughed a laugh, and let Arthur pull him to his feet.

*

When the Saxons attacked, there were too many of them. The knights all fought bravely, but there was too much going on, and when Arthur was hit in the head and fell to the ground, Merlin’s only choice was to pull him to safety, trusting his friends to survive.

*

Arthur regretted returning to consciousness as soon as he woke up. Everything ached, like his whole body was a bruise. He blinked his eyes open, and exhaled in relief when he saw Merlin sitting next to him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You don’t remember?” Merlin sounded concerned about that, but Arthur was used to vague memories following injuries, and had more important things to focus on.

“Where are the others?” he asked, trying to look around, which resulted in a groan of pain. “Leon? Elyan?”

“There was nothing I could do,” Merlin said, looking down sadly. “I had to get you to safety.”

“What happened?” Arthur repeated.

“We got separated. I could only save your neck and run. I don’t know what happened to the others.” Merlin looked back over Arthur. “Can you move?”

“We’re about to find out.” Arthur reached out and Merlin took his arms, helping him to his feet. He was sore and aching, but he could move. He nodded to Merlin.

“We need to get going,” Arthur said and looked around, trying to get a sense of their location. “That way,” he said once he was certain, and Merlin faithfully started them forwards, letting Arthur lean on him until he was used to it enough to walk for himself.

*

“You’re still looking a little pale,” Merlin said. “We should take a break.”

“Long as it’s quick,” Arthur replied, bringing them to a stop. “I want to reach Ismere before dark.”

Merlin blinked at Arthur, waiting for him to correct himself. When he didn’t, Merlin wanted to smack him. “ _Ismere_? We’re heading back to Camelot!”

“Navigation’s not your strong point, is it?” Arthur said, but Merlin could tell he had been avoiding this conversation for a reason. “Camelot is south. The sun rises in the east. And where have we been walking towards all day?”

Merlin was not in the mood to laugh his way out of this one. “To our deaths!” he snapped. “The two of us, alone against Morgana? Are you mad?!”

“I told you, I’m going to rescue my men,” Arthur said stubbornly.

“Not with two people, we’re not!” Merlin retorted. His panic was starting to rise now. How could he be certain that he could protect Arthur in Ismere without backup? “We need more help.”

“Merlin, I understand you’re worried about what we might face, but I am doing this. If you truly want to, you can go home,” he added, as if that was an option.

“That would be counterproductive considering I’m worried about _you_!”

Arthur sighed. “Right. Well, if you’re not going home, the least you can do is stop yelling at me. The decision has been made. Let’s get going.”

Arthur started walking again, and Merlin reluctantly followed. Stubborn, stubborn man!

“You know, if Morgana doesn’t kill you, I will,” he called after Arthur.

“Threatening a King is treason, Merlin,” he replied without turning around.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “What about threatening an ass?” he muttered.

“I heard that, love! Now pick up the pace.”

*

Merlin still maintained that this situation was _not_ entirely his fault.

Sure, he was the one who triggered the trap that caught them, but if Arthur had just returned to Camelot for help like a reasonable King, they wouldn’t have been anywhere near the trap in the first place. Merlin had tried pointing that out to Arthur, and it had earned him a glare and a smack on the head. Merlin had returned the smack, and they had sat in silence ever since.

Well, dangled more than sat. And not so much silence as both of them grunting and whining as they adjusted and tried to find something resembling comfortable positions. They had already dropped Arthur’s sword – _Arthur_ had dropped it – so getting loose wasn’t looking very likely. After a while, they managed to stop squirming. They were a tangle of limbs, but they weren’t going to find anything better.

Once the darkness had covered the forest completely, Merlin was tired of the silence and exhausted from clinging to irritation.

“Sorry I got us trapped in a net,” he muttered. Arthur snorted, but his hand found Merlin’s fingers and twined them together.

“Sorry for being a royal prat,” he replied, and Merlin chuckled.

“Oh, that part I’m used to.”

Arthur laughed. “Perhaps I deserved that.”

*

They were woken up the next morning by the painful impact of a fall to the ground. The net was cut. They both tried to scramble out of it when they heard the voice.

“I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a look as they managed to throw the net aside, but before they could stand up they found themselves surrounded with weapons pointing down at them.

Mercenaries. Perfect.

“Not so fast,” said the largest of the group, the leader. “The King of Camelot. You will fetch a handsome price. Alive or dead.” He gave an ugly, mocking grin.

“Let my servant go,” Arthur said, knowing it would never happen but he had to try anyway. He always had to try. “He doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

Merlin’s response to this was, of course, to get to his feet and stand between Arthur and the mercenary leader. “If you’re going to kill him,” he hissed, “you’ll have to kill me first.”

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, scrambling to his feet despite his tied hands. “Step aside!”

Merlin smirked at him over his shoulder. “You know I never do as I’m told.”

Stupid, reckless, compassionate bastard of a –

“Stop!” A voice rang out over the clearing.

Out from the men stepped what had to be their youngest member, the boy barely looked like he was of age, though he looked as fit as the rest of them. Something about his dark eyes and hair reminded Arthur of someone, but he couldn’t quite place it. He could, however, sense the change in Merlin. He had gone still as a statue, the reckless fighting energy vanished as he stared at this newcomer like he was a ghost.

“Radnor, shouldn’t we leave it to the Lady Morgana to decide their fate?” the young man asked the mercenary leader. The large man didn’t seem remotely happy with the suggestion, but reluctantly he agreed.

The young man stopped before Arthur, and he could feel Merlin’s tension beside him grow, though he couldn’t fathom why. This boy didn’t look more like a threat than the other brutes. Though there was something… familiar about him, around the eyes.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” the young man asked him. “You saved my life once, many years ago.”

Merlin spoke, like the word stung his mouth as he said it. “Mordred.”

Arthur stared in shock. Yes, of course, it was plain to see now. The man still looked like the frightened druid boy they had helped so long ago, if only you knew to look for him.

Mordred smiled, and it was neither friendly nor threatening. “Hello, Arthur.”

*

It was early in the morning, while everyone else was still asleep despite the bone-deep cold, that Mordred approached Merlin. Merlin couldn’t sleep if he wanted to, not with this cold, not when his rumbling stomach was keeping him awake, and certainly not when the man he had seen kill Arthur in the vision was within spitting distance.

Merlin couldn’t help glaring suspiciously as Mordred approached, but when the young man kneeled before him, he pulled a loaf of bread out from his coat.

“Do you want it?” he asked, not unkindly.

Still, Merlin couldn’t afford to let his guard down. “Why are you doing this?”

Mordred looked over where Arthur slept. “He once saved my life. I owe him a debt.” Mordred turned to Merlin. “Don’t be so quick to judge me.”

The two sorcerers stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Merlin almost forgot about his rattling teeth and empty stomach as he looked into the eyes he had seen blaze with hatred as Arthur died.

“You fear me, Emrys,” Mordred said finally. “Don’t you?”

Merlin couldn’t deny it, because more than anything he feared that vision that still would not stop playing over and over in his mind.

Mordred lowered his voice. “I know the hatred and suspicion with which men treat those with magic. You and I are not so different. I too have learned to hide my gifts.” Mordred put the loaf of bread down by Merlin’s feet. “I promise… your secret is safe with me.”

This was not the reason Merlin feared the young man in front of him, but he couldn’t ignore the sincerity in Mordred’s eyes or the passion in his voice. He did mean what he said.

Mordred stood and started walking away, but something about his honesty made Merlin take a risk. “What’s Morgana looking for in Ismere?” he asked.

Mordred paused and turned. “The Diamair.”

“What’s that?”

“In the language of my people,” Mordred said,” it means _the Key_.”

Merlin swallowed. “The key to what?”

Mordred hesitated for only a moment. “The key to all knowledge.”

The young man walked away, leaving Merlin to ponder this new information, and to subtly devouring half of the bread. The other, larger half, he saved for Arthur.

*

Arthur considered the conversation he had just overheard between Merlin and Mordred. The boy seemed to have shown kindness to Merlin, and somehow he knew and guarded Merlin’s secret. Both these things made Arthur think he might like him. So he couldn’t help but wonder why Mordred thought Merlin was afraid of him.

Arthur was very much looking forward to an opportunity to ask, but right now, sleep overtook him once more.

*

Despite their hunger and exhaustion, and the bitter cold, Arthur had managed to swipe a blade from Ragnor when he pretended to faint. They didn’t wait long before they put it to good use. Merlin knocked the supplies off the cart in front of them. Ragnor was furious. When he came for Merlin, Arthur knocked him down and sent his stolen blade whirling into one of their captors. A horse threw off its rider and Arthur knew it was Merlin’s doing.

In the chaos, Merlin and Arthur grabbed all the weapons they could, and they ran. They ran all the way to wide crevice. Arthur threw their weapons across it.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Merlin said.

“Do you have a better solution?” Arthur asked, and then, before he could think about it too much, he jumped. His heart almost gave in when Merlin barely made it to the other side, but they both managed and took cover as several of Ragnor’s men tried to pursue them. Merlin used an axe and his magic to widen the crevice so no one could make it across, and looked up to see Mordred standing on the other side.

Arthur had his crossbow trained on him, but lowered it. The young man had given them food, had protected Merlin’s secret. He couldn’t just shoot him when he wasn’t a direct threat.

“Why did you spare his life?” Merlin asked. Arthur was surprised by the outright anger in Merlin’s voice.

“He couldn’t come after us,” Arthur pointed out.

“He was leading us to our deaths!” Merlin really wasn’t sounding like himself.

“He showed us kindness.”

“You should’ve killed him!”

Arthur stared at Merlin. “What is wrong with you?” he asked, horrified. “This isn’t like you, Merlin, what the hell is going on?”

Merlin seemed to wake up from a stupor at Arthur’s words. The flaming anger vanished from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said shakily. “It’s just… Arthur, it was Mordred. In the vision. Mordred was the one who killed you.”

Arthur blinked as it all became clear. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, Merlin…” Arthur put his gloved hand on Merlin’s cheek. “That vision really got to you, didn’t it?”

The pain in Merlin’s eyes broke Arthur’s heart. Merlin leaned into Arthur’s touch and squeezed his eyes shut. “I cannot lose you, Arthur,” he whispered, and a lone tear trailed down his cheek. Arthur wiped it away.

He didn’t know what to say that could make this better, that could ease Merlin’s fears. Arthur didn’t think Mordred seemed like someone who would kill in cold blood, the way Merlin had described it, but with Merlin so terrified of the vision coming true, Arthur knew he had to find some way of making this easier for Merlin to bear.

“We escaped,” Arthur reminded Merlin gently. Merlin opened his eyes.

“Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

Arthur forced himself to smile, that particular one he wore when he teased Merlin, because he knew it was a smile Merlin loved. “I love your optimism, Merlin.”

It worked. A trace of a smile appeared, and Merlin shook his head as if he had no words to describe how ridiculous his King was.

“Come on,” Arthur said. “We can’t linger on what might have happened or what could some day happen. We need to keep moving.”

Merlin swallowed, gathering himself. He nodded, and the two of them set off towards Ismere, to rescue their friends.

*

After crawling through food waste and hiding in an oversized wheelbarrow, Arthur and Merlin finally spotted a familiar shape. Percival turned around and beamed when he saw them.

“Arthur! Merlin!”

“Didn’t think we’d just leave you here, did you?” Arthur said. “Where are the others?”

Percival glanced over his shoulder. “They’re… Scattered around.”

“Gwaine?” Arthur asked.

“Saw him a couple of days ago, but…” Percival trailed off with a look of concern and sadness. Arthur nodded and slipped his sword into the trolley Percival was pushing.

“See if you can use this to find some more,” he instructed. “Do what you can to free the others. We’ll find Gwaine.”

With a determined nod from Percival, they went their separate ways. Arthur led the way through a narrow tunnel. They walked in silence until they rounded a corner and a shape came at them with a stick and a battle cry that Arthur easily blocked.

Gwaine stood before them, staring in surprise.

“Trust you not to be doing any work,” Arthur said with a grin.

“It’s about time!” Gwaine exclaimed when he realised they weren’t hallucinations. He noticed Merlin behind Arthur and engulfed him in a hug. Merlin sagged with relief – despite his insistence on them turning back, he had been worried sick about Gwaine and the others.

His relief was momentarily forgotten when Merlin spotted the creature standing by a rock behind Gwaine. Gwaine noticed and turned to the strange creature, a creature with glowing blueish skin and long, drawn limbs. Merlin would have been frightened if the creature didn’t look more afraid.

“They’re friends,” Gwaine said to the creature. “Good friends.”

The three men all stared at the creature. It nodded slightly, and then vanished into the darkness of the tunnels.

“What was that?” Arthur asked.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Gwaine said, “but I owe it my life.”

Merlin stared after it. “Whatever it is, it’s a being of powerful magic. I could feel it.”

As intrigued as Merlin was, they didn’t have time to contemplate it. They had knights to save and tunnels to escape.

*

“Was that what I think it was?” Gwaine asked when all three of them were tumbled over in a small hollow gap of the cave. They had managed to outrun and hide the thing that was chasing them, the thing that had just stormed right past their hideout. Merlin stared after it, struggling to comprehend what he had seen.

“Aithusa,” he whispered.

“What is the dragon doing with Morgana?” Arthur asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Merlin answered honestly. “Get Gwaine back to Percival. I’ll lure her the other way.”

“Merlin!” Arthur grabbed his arm. “I knew you were stupid, but not that stupid. That dragon is clearly on Morgana’s side!”

Merlin smirked. “Oh, I really am that stupid, and if you don’t believe me, watch.”

*

“Merlin!” Arthur tried to reach after him, but he had already run too far down the tunnel. Arthur sighed. “I’m going after him.”

Gwaine raised an eyebrow at him. “You do remember he’s a dragon lord, do you not, princess?”

Arthur glared. “Shut up and stay here.”

*

Merlin’s heart cried as he took in Aithusa’s form. She looked sickly, her pure white colour seemed more grey and sallow. Her shape… She was deformed in some ways, like something had kept her from growing into her adult form properly. Merlin felt sick to his stomach at the fear in her thin, sunken skull.

“Aithusa,” he said, and she breathed fire that he blocked almost too easily. She was strong, but nothing compared to Kilgharrah. Merlin spoke to her in his dragon tongue, and Aithusa cowered and whimpered, but she didn’t attack again.

Merlin didn’t want to believe his own eyes. “What happened?” he whispered. How had Kilgharrah allowed this to happen? Why hadn’t he said anything to Merlin?

“Who did this to you?” Merlin asked, taking a careful step forward that had Aithusa give a frightened sound that broke his heart. “I won’t harm you,” he said gently.

Aithusa made a series of sounds as she looked him in the eye. Merlin tilted his head. “What does that mean?” he asked. She made more sounds, and realisation hit Merlin like freezing cold water. “You can’t speak.”

Aithusa lowered her head. Merlin couldn’t believe any of this. How did a dragon, a pure creature of magic, born with such promise, become this frightened, miserable creature? Where had he been, that he hadn’t been able to help her? Where had Kilgharrah been?

Both Merlin and the dragon startled at the sound of footsteps approaching, but Merlin called when he heard Arthur call his name. The King rounded the corner and froze as he took in the scene. Aithusa cowered back against the wall.

“Merlin? What’s the matter with her?” Arthur asked, but Merlin kept his gaze firmly on Aithusa.

“It’s alright, he won’t hurt you,” he said softly. “Neither will I.” He swallowed against the lump of sadness in his throat. “I can’t understand you, but I can’t just leave you like this.”

The white dragon shook her head, and Arthur came up beside Merlin and put a hand on his back. “Are you suggesting we take her with us?” he asked.

“Look at her, Arthur,” Merlin replied. “I am a dragonlord. How can I leave her behind?”

Aithusa made more sounds and backed away further. Arthur took Merlin’s hand.

“I don’t think she wants to come with us, love. Whatever happened, she’s clearly with Morgana now. You can’t force her to leave.”

Merlin knew Arthur was right, but it felt impossibly wrong. But it was true; Aithusa had clearly been through too much already. He couldn’t order her to follow them, not if she was truly with Morgana. As difficult as that was to believe…

“I know,” Merlin said finally.

Arthur squeezed his hand. “Let’s get the others and get out of here, alright?”

Merlin nodded, and with one last glance over his shoulder, he followed Arthur back down the tunnel.

*

The last thing Merlin saw before everything faded to black was Mordred driving a dagger into Morgana’s back and stopping her from killing Arthur. Merlin didn’t have time to feel relief, or to question his opinion of Mordred, before he lost his grip on consciousness.

When he woke up, it was to find the strange, glowing creature that saved Gwaine, staring down at him. Even in his weakened state, Merlin could feel the being’s strong magic.

“Emrys,” it said kindly. “Lie still. Much blood has been shed this day, and all for something few wise men would ever want.”

Merlin realised the being was healing him, and nodded gratefully. “You mean the Diamair?” he asked. “Morgana never found it?”

The being bowed its head. “And she never will.”

Merlin stared at the glowing creature, and the truth clicked into place. “Because it is you! You are the Key to all knowledge?” Merlin’s head swam at the very idea, and empathy filled his sore body. “There are times,” he said, “I feel the weight of my destiny crushing me, but… that is nothing to what you carry.”

The Diamair nodded. “It is both a blessing and… a curse.” Its ageless eyes bore deeply into Merlin. “Is there something you wish to ask me?”

Merlin barely needed to think about it. He already knew too much that he wished he could unlearn. “No. I don’t think it would be good.”

The Diamair seemed to approve of this. “You are wise, Emrys. Your wisdom will live long in the minds of men.”

Merlin would rather not contemplate that too much. The creature stood and made to leave, when Merlin realised there was one thing…

“Wait,” he begged. “There is one question. “If Mordred is not Arthur’s bane, then, who is?”

The Diamair looked at him sadly. “Himself.”

It walked away, and though Merlin could already hear the voices of his friends coming to find him, it did not do much to soothe his worries. How, Merlin wondered, was he supposed to protect Arthur from _himself_?

*

“Arise, Sir Mordred, Knight of Camelot.”

Merlin stood at the back of the room as he watched Arthur knight the young man who had saved his life. Merlin hadn’t even gotten the chance to argue about it, Arthur was certain that Mordred had proven he could be trusted and had begged Merlin to give him a chance. Merlin was powerless to refuse such a request when he’d been so close to seeing Arthur die in front of him. Now that it was done, though, Merlin slipped out of the throne room and waited in the hallway.

Finally, Mordred came walking past, stopping to try and unbuckle his red cape.

“Here,” Merlin said, announcing his presence. “Let me help you with that.”

Mordred hesitated, but didn’t argue when Merlin came to sand behind him, working the clasp with a practised hand. “Thank you,” the young man said, but he sounded nervous. Merlin assumed he knew what was coming.

“Tell me something,” Merlin said.

“Of course.”

“You were reunited with Morgana, and yet you saved Arthur’s life.” Merlin stood before the young knight, face to face. “Why?”

Mordred held a look of conviction when he replied. “Because Arthur is right. The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield. Morgana had forgotten that.”

Merlin almost smiled. It was an impressive answer, and he seemed to mean it. And yet… “Still, your bond with Morgana has always been strong. How can I be sure that you will continue to have Arthur’s best interest at heart?”

Mordred swallowed. “I may have magic, Merlin, but mine is nothing to yours. If I do not have your trust, I expect you will keep a close eye on me. If I show any sign of disloyalty, I trust you will call me on it.”

This time Merlin did smile. “You’re not wrong.” He started to walk off, but paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Congratulations, young knight,” he said, and he could practically hear the young man blush as he walked away.

How strange, to think that not only was there another knight who knew of Merlin’s magic, but this one knew him first and foremost as Emrys. What an idea, someone announcing themselves so eager to earn Merlin’s trust.

Still… As much as Merlin wanted to believe his vision could be avoided, he couldn’t fight against his own fears. He could feel it in his bones.

The die was cast. For good or ill, Albion’s greatest trial had begun.

*

_Oh, Mordred…._ His betrayal stung more than the dagger he left in her back.

Morgana walked through the freezing snow with no one but Aithusa by her side, and she grieved. She had felt a special bond with the boy since the first moment she saw him. Each time she was with him she was filled with the joy of their inexplicable connection, as though a part of her had been returned, and now…

Mordred had cut that part off, leaving her with yet another wound she did not know how to stop from bleeding. Another wound to go along with the one left by Morgause’s death and every other person she had lost either to death or betrayal.

The man she had thought was her father died. Gwen was her best friend, and she had chosen Arthur over Morgana. Merlin had tried to _kill_ her. And Arthur… Arthur had let himself be brainwashed by his father and could never accept her.

Uther Pendragon… Uther wasn’t a bleeding wound; he was an infected sore, red and black and yellow with the poison that leaked from it every time she pictured his face. He was the first wound, the first lie, the one who had made her live in constant terror from the moment she realised what she was.

Her hatred for him had not stilled with his death as she had hoped. It still drove her every action and thought, but she had grown used to the sting his wound inflicted each day.

Mordred was new. Fresh. Mordred was her kin, and he had chosen those who would condemn them for who they were, for the magic that flowed through them as naturally as blood.

_Why, Mordred_?

_Why did you choose them over me?_

Morgana huddled in her cloak, her dragon close behind her, and she grieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	2. S5E3: The Death Song of Uther Pendragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 3, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Death Song of Uther Pendragon.
> 
> Arthur receives a gift. He makes a choice - a choice that leads to a difficult situation and some very important confrontations.

Merlin wondered if Arthur knew how much it had meant to watch him help that woman. Even though the crowd had fought. Even though it was evidence that Camelot was not yet ready to accept sorcerers and magic. Even with all that, Merlin was incredibly moved by the way Arthur reacted to seeing that old woman dragged towards the pyre.

What had moved him the most was that the King’s actions hadn’t been for Merlin’s benefit. He hadn’t done it out of a sense of duty to Merlin, but a sense of duty to all his people, because he knew in his heart what was right and what was wrong, and that made Merlin so very proud.

*

Arthur stared at the horn the old woman had given him. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Gaius had said about its powers. And he couldn’t stop thinking about his father.

The knock on the door barely proceeded its opening, and without thinking Arthur grabbed the nearest thing to him – the bowl of apples on the table. He flipped the bowl to cover the horn, sending all the apples tumbling to the floor just as Merlin entered the room.

Merlin looked at the apples, the upturned bowl, and at Arthur.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly concerned about Arthur’s sanity.

In hindsight, Arthur could just have put the blasted horn on his lap. “Nothing,” he replied, too quickly. “Thinking.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows and started picking the apples up from the floor. “Thinking, alone, without supervision? Now I’m really getting worried.”

“Shut up,” Arthur muttered automatically. Merlin shook his head, smiling with amusement, and dropped the apples on the table. Then he moved to flip the bowl. Arthur covered it with his hands like a pouncing cat.

“Leave it!” _Good job, Arthur, that’ll convince him you’re fine._

Merlin blinked, confused. “Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to and I’m the King of Camelot. Not that that seems to mean anything to you,” Arthur said, and thought he might be the most stupid person to ever live. Judging from Merlin’s expression, he was beginning to think the same.

“Are you still drunk from last night?” Merlin asked.

“No,” Arthur said, forcing himself to breathe normally. “Sorry. I’m fine, it’s just…” There was no use pretending he hadn’t already made up his mind. “Ready the horses, will you? And gather some supplies.”

Merlin straightened, apples abandoned on the table. He no longer looked amused-concerned but properly worried. “Where are we going?”

“I’m not telling you yet because you’ll argue with me, and I actually _am_ King, you know.” Arthur stood and cupped Merlin’s cheek in his hand. He forced his voice back to calm. It wouldn’t do for Merlin to be worried. “Don’t tell anyone we’re leaving, alright?”

Merlin considered him for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But later I will be mocking you a great deal over how bad a liar you’ve become.”

Arthur couldn’t fight a small smile. “Seems fair.”

*

“I’m getting a very bad feeling about this place,” Merlin said.

“That could be because worrying is your specialty.”

“Or because I’ve got magic and I’m extremely intuitive.”

Arthur smirked. “Good point.”

They rode in silence for a while longer, until Arthur stopped his horse at their destination. He watched Merlin take in the sight before them.

“What are they?” Merlin asked, though Arthur imagined he already knew.

“The Great Stones of Nemeton,” he replied.

“Arthur, you heard what Gaius said! This is dangerous.”

Arthur slid off his horse and pulled the horn out of his saddle bag. Merlin followed him to the ground and stared at the horn.

“Are you really going to use it?” he asked.

Arthur met Merlin’s gaze. “This is the only chance I’ll have to see my father again. I can’t just let it pass.”

Merlin swallowed. “These are powerful forces, Arthur. The feeling of this place… It’s ancient magic. If this goes wrong, I don’t know if I can help you.”

The two of them stared at each other. Arthur could tell how worried Merlin was, and he knew it came from a place of love, but he couldn’t back down now. His decision was made.

“My father was taken from me before his time,” Arthur said. “There isn’t a day that passes when I don’t think of the things I wish had been different between us, things I should have said.” Arthur hesitated, knowing the next words were unfair, but also knowing it was the only way to make Merlin understand. “If you were given the chance to see your father, to talk to him. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

Merlin sighed, and Arthur could see how much he wanted to argue, to disagree, but they both knew better. Merlin nodded.

Arthur reached for him and pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, Arthur entered the circle of stones. He stopped in the middle of them and raised the horn to his lips. He closed his eyes, and blew.

*

Arthur hadn’t said a thing since he returned from the other side. Merlin had understood it was best not to push him, but now it was dark and Merlin had lit the fire, and he couldn’t stand watching Arthur’s mournful face any longer.

“Arthur?” he asked, sitting near Arthur but keeping space between them. “Do you want to talk about it?” Silence. Merlin had to ask. “What happened at the stones?”

Arthur took a deep breath as he stared into the fire. “It seems my father doesn’t approve of the way I have chosen to rule his kingdom.”

“You mean _your_ kingdom,” Merlin said firmly. Arthur looked at him, and after a moment he nodded at that.

“The things he said,” Arthur continued. “About allowing knights that aren’t of noble birth, about making Guinevere my Queen… Not to mention my attempts to lift the magic ban.” Arthur snorted without humour. “I’ve never seen him look so disappointed.”

Merlin considered all this. It seemed Uther had been keeping a close eye on Arthur from the afterlife. “Did he mention… anything else?”

“Like you and me?” Arthur guessed. “Not a word. Like he didn’t have any idea. Yet he seemed to know everything else.”

Not an eye on Arthur, then. An eye on the kingdom. Did Uther really care so little about Arthur’s private life?

Merlin looked at Arthur, really looked, and he could tell Arthur was trying not to show how deeply Uther’s words had hurt him. Merlin reached out his hand, but let it hang between them, letting Arthur decide what comfort he needed.

Arthur took Merlin’s offered hand and pulled him closer. Merlin wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders and held him.

“Arthur, you have always done what you believed to be right, for everyone. People respect you for that. Including me.”

Merlin felt Arthur shiver, and tightened his hold.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said. He sounded tired, both emotionally and physically.

“We should get some sleep,” Merlin suggested, but neither of them moved. They remained like that all through the night, with Arthur in Merlin’s arms.

*

Merlin really didn’t want to have this conversation, but after what happened to the Round Table and to Percival… He had no choice.

“At the Stones of Nemeton, I think that you may have released your father’s spirit.”

Arthur stared at him, face like stone. His tone was no more expressive. “And what makes you think that?”

“Did you look back?” Merlin asked. Surprise flickered across Arthur’s features. “As the veil closed, did you look back at your father?”

Arthur turned away from Merlin. “I may have glanced around for a second.”

“In that second, you unleashed Uther’s spirit.” Merlin knew Arthur didn’t want to hear this, but he had to understand. “All these strange things that have been happening? The candelabra falling onto the Round Table.”

“Yes, because the chain broke,” Arthur said quickly.

“The axe falling on Percival.”

“It was an accident.”

Merlin sighed. “Was it? He sensed the same kind of presence I did after the candelabra.”

Arthur got to his feet, pacing. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that my father’s spirit is responsible for these things?”

“The Round Table represents everything that’s changed since you became King,” Merlin said. “You told me how Uther disapproved. He’s angry with you, and that makes him dangerous.”

Merlin hated the look of hurt in Arthur’s eyes when he finally looked at him. “I know my father was far from perfect, but he wouldn’t do these things, not to hurt me and everything I’ve worked for.”

Merlin could see how desperate Arthur was to believe it. To believe that, at least in death, Uther would finally stop pushing his will onto his son. But they both knew better.

“I think he would do anything to protect his legacy,” Merlin said softy. “Arthur, you know what he’s capable of.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched. “Enough,” he said. “I’m sorry but that’s enough, Merlin. Please, just let me be alone for a while.”

Merlin wanted to reach out, but he knew that in this moment it wasn’t what Arthur needed. He needed to accept what was happening on his own.

“Yes, sire,” Merlin said, and left Arthur alone.

*

Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot stood in Gaius’s chambers and waited. Gaius was in Merlin’s old room, where they had placed Gwen on the bed after Merlin pulled her from the burning kitchen.

“You know this was Uther,” Merlin said.

“We don’t know what happened,” Arthur replied, but his resolve was fading.

“So Gwen just mysteriously ended up locked in the kitchens, which just mysteriously caught fire?” Merlin demanded. “You said yourself that Uther disapproves of Gwen being Queen.”

Arthur knew Merlin was right, he _knew_ that, but more than anything he wished he didn’t. He glanced at Lancelot, and found him exchanging a concerned look with Merlin. Of course Lancelot had already accepted Merlin’s words as truth. 

“I know how hard this is for you,” Merlin said softly.

“Arthur,” Lancelot said. “Please, just consider–”

“Gaius,” Arthur interrupted when the physician came down the steps. “How is she?”

“Smoke has entered her lungs,” Gaius said as he joined them. “But with time, she will heal. I have given her a sleeping draught. She was lucky to escape with her life.”

Silence fell over them as they all processed. Arthur could feel Merlin’s eyes on him, but Lancelot’s were firmly fixed on the door to Merlin’s old room, where Gwen lay sleeping. Gwen wasn’t in there now because she loved Lancelot. She was in there because she was Arthur’s friend. Finally, Arthur met Merlin’s blue gaze.

“I’ve always known my father could be cruel,” he admitted. “But why would he do this to Gwen? He knows how much she means to me.”

Merlin didn’t have an answer to that, but then Arthur hadn’t really expected one. There was no making sense of a situation this harsh. Arthur put a hand on Lancelot’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Lancelot. If I’d listened to Merlin right away…” Arthur’s resolve hardened. “I will make this right. I promise.” Lancelot nodded as if he had no doubt, and Arthur faced the physician. “Gaius, do you know how I can fix this?”

*

Merlin and Arthur sat across from each other at Gaius’s table, the physician between them. He handed each of them a glass vial of liquid that did _not_ look appetizing.

“The potion will allow you to see Uther in his spirit form,” Gaius explained. “Once you are in his presence, you must blow the horn. It is the only way you can force him to go back to the spirit world.”

Arthur eyes the potion. “Is it safe?”

Gaius considered. “I can’t say I’m entirely sure,” he said, sounding more amused than concerned by this fact.

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. Both of them raised their vials in salutations – and both of them hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?” Merlin asked.

“To see if it’s safe,” Arthur said, fighting a smile.

“So, if I don’t die, you’ll take yours?”

“Precisely.” Arthur doubted Gaius would let Merlin drink something that could truly hurt him, but things had been tense and there was nothing that relaxed Arthur more than teasing Merlin. “Get on with it,” he encouraged.

Merlin sighed, clearly fighting an eye-roll. He eyed the vial like it had offended his mother, and downed its contents in one go.

Arthur waited. Merlin just looked at Gaius and Arthur, waiting.

“Well, at least we know it doesn’t kill you instantly,” Arthur said, and he followed Merlin’s lead, swallowing the potion in one gulp. “Eurgh! That’s the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted!” Arthur coughed and resisted the urge to wipe his tongue with his hand.

“Sorry,” Merlin said, sounding like he was fighting not to vomit, but he still smiled mockingly. “Did I forget to tell you about that part?”

*

“I never thought the day would come when I would be hunting my own father,” Arthur said. They had been moving through the dark halls of the palace with torches in their hands, chasing shadows for what felt like hours. “Despite all our differences, I’ve always wanted to make him proud,” Arthur admitted. “To be a king he could respect.” He glanced at Merlin and noticed the sorcerer staring at him with a soft, sad look. “What is it?”

“You’ve always done what you believed to be right, even if you knew your father would disapprove of it,” Merlin said. “I know you see how different you are to him. Camelot is a better place since you became king.”

Arthur tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. After all this time, Merlin still had such unwavering faith in him. “My father clearly doesn’t think so.”

Merlin took Arthur’s arm and brought him to a stop. “The people believe in you, Arthur.” Merlin’s fiery eyes burned into him. “It counts for nothing if you don’t believe in yourself.”

They stared at each other for a long, heavy moment, but before either of them could speak again, they heard a sound.

Well, two sounds. From two different directions. Arthur shrugged. “You check the storeroom, I’ll keep going this way.”

Merlin nodded, but he placed a quick, chaste kiss to Arthur’s cheek. “Be careful.”

*

Arthur walked down the hall alone, alert to any strange sounds. The problem was that there were a _lot_ of strange sounds.

“Merlin? Is that you?” he asked in a whisper. But of course it wasn’t Merlin. Arthur knew it the second a feeling cold as ice moved down his spine. A feeling he only ever felt when he was under the observation of Uther. “Father?”

The torch went out, leaving him in the dark of the hallway. Swearing, he dropped the useless sick to the floor and pulled out the horn. He moved carefully down the hallway, until he passed the door to the throne room.

It opened on its own accord. Arthur could take a hint. He walked through the door and into the vast, empty room. The darkness seemed heavier in here somehow. Once he reached the centre of the room, the door slammed shut behind him, making Arthur jump towards it. Nothing there but the closed door, but that chilling feeling returned. There was something behind him.

“I know it’s you, Father,” Arthur said sadly. He turned around.

There, on the throne, sat Uther Pendragon, looking every bit as intimidating as he had in life. Arthur had never experienced the full force of Uther’s rage directed at him before.

“Why are you doing this?” Arthur asked, forcing his voice not to tremble.

“I did not spend my entire life building this kingdom to see my own son destroy it.”

“You tried to kill Guinevere.”

“For your own good,” Uther hissed. “How can a serving girl understand what it means to be Queen?”

“Gwen is wise and strong! She is a true friend and I trust her.” Even as he spoke, he felt the familiar nervousness at speaking to his father in such a tone.

“And that is your weakness,” Uther sneered. “You put too much trust in other people. You, and you alone, must rule Camelot.”

Arthur swallowed. “I would rather not rule at all, than rule alone.”

Uther’s expression turned even more grim, and he stood from the throne to better glare down at Arthur. “Your whole life, I tried to prepare you for the day you would become King. Did you learn nothing?!”

It took every ounce of courage Arthur had to force his words out. “I watched you rule, and I learned that if you trust no-one, you will always live in fear. Your hatred came from fear, not strength.”

“How dare you!” Uther’s yell echoed off the walls.

“I will not keep my true feelings a secret from you in death as I did when you were alive!” Arthur shouted back. “I loved you, and respected you. But I have to rule the Kingdom in my own way. I have to do what I believe to be right.”

“By making a serving girl Queen!” Uther scoffed. “By allowing sorcery to once more bring Camelot to ruin! I will not allow you to destroy all that I built.”

Arthur breathed a sigh, his heart breaking. “Then you will have to kill me,” he said. “I am not you, Father. I cannot rule the way you did.”

Uther’s eyes widened in shock, but quickly narrowed in determination as he stepped down from the dais and walked towards Arthur.

“Camelot must come before all else,” Uther said. “Even you!”

Uther raised his hand and Arthur prepared for a spiritual blow, when a loud, brilliant voice drew the attention of both Kings.

“Get away from him, Uther!” Merlin stepped out of the shadows with a mighty rage in his eyes that made him look every bit the powerful sorcerer he was.

“Merlin, stay back,” Arthur tried to warn him, but Merlin didn’t take his eyes off of Uther for a second, and Arthur understood. Arthur wasn’t the only one with unresolved feelings towards Uther Pendragon.

“You have caused enough harm,” Merlin said, and Uther stared at him in surprise. “You don’t belong here. You must return to the other world.”

“This is _my_ kingdom!” Uther shouted. “You think you can drive me from it? You are nothing but a serving boy!”

Arthur watched as Merlin looked Uther in the eye with his shoulder straight and pain and anger dancing in his eyes. “I am much more than that,” Merlin said.

Uther raised his arm and sent a bench flying directly towards Merlin. Merlin barely glanced at it before it fell uselessly to the ground. Arthur saw Merlin’s whole body shaking, yet despite everything, Arthur felt a swell of pride as Merlin raised his chin and looked at Uther.

“You have magic?” Uther asked, barely audible.

“I was born with it!” Merlin shouted at the man who used to be king, the man who had forced Merlin to live with shame and fear his whole life. Merlin had spent his life cowering at the thought of Uther learning of his magic. Merlin certainly wasn’t cowering now.

“I made you Arthur’s servant,” Uther sounded shaken to his core. “You are a sorcerer?”

“Even while you were King,” Merlin said calmly, “there was magic at the heart of Camelot.”

“I will not allow you and your kind to poison my Kingdom,” Uther said, his voice rising again now, along with Arthur’s fears. “I will not allow you to corrupt my son!”

Somehow Merlin’s rage grew even stronger. “Your hatred makes you so blind that even in death, you cannot see what is truly in your son’s heart!”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, and though his voice felt low, Merlin looked at him instantly. Their gazes locked and Arthur knew Merlin could see the resolve in Arthur’s eyes. Merlin nodded. Noticing the moment between them, Uther returned his attention to his son. Arthur breathed deep and forced himself to face his father without shying away.

“Merlin never corrupted me, father,” he said. “It is _my_ choice, my desire to remove the law that allowed you to cause so much harm. Merlin did nothing but open my eyes.” Arthur swallowed. He had never felt more afraid in his life, but one glance into Merlin’s eyes reminded him that he _could_ do this. Arthur looked at Uther. “By… by loving me, and letting me love him, Merlin has helped me see that evil isn’t in what people can do, but in who they are, and that has nothing to do with magic.”

Arthur watched as Uther’s expression turned even more shocked than it had at Merlin’s reveal of his magic. “Yes, Father,” Arthur continued. He had to say this. Had to tell his father the truth while he could. “I love Merlin. I love him more than anyone, and I love him all the more for helping me see the world the way it truly is, and not how you wanted me to see it.”

Uther’s look turned from shock, to disgust, to horror, and Arthur’s heart broke at each turn. “You cannot be my son,” Uther stammered. “This is sorcery, it must be.”

Arthur shut his eyes because he had _known_ this was coming, yet the words still hurt.

“You’re wrong.” Merlin’s firm voice made him open his eyes again. “You’re wrong about so much. Arthur is a better and more worthy king than you ever were.”

“No!” Uther’s voice exploded through the room, and the next thing Arthur knew, he was blinking away spots before his eyes.

He was on the floor, a piece of wood beside him that must have hit him, if the pounding in his head was any indication. Arthur sat up too quickly, the room spinning, and found he was alone in the throne room. He heard steps echoing down the hall outside the open door, steps he knew to be Merlin’s. Arthur scrambled to his feet and followed.

*

Merlin was trapped.

Uther had succeeded in pinning him to the wall, and now Uther’s spirit was marching angrily down the storeroom towards him, eyes burning with hatred.

“It will give me great pleasure killing you,” Uther declared with all the vile he’d carried with him when he was alive. For one moment, Merlin thought this horrible man might be the last thing he would ever see.

“Father!”

Uther froze. He turned, and both Merlin and Uther saw Arthur standing there with tears in his eyes and the horn in his hand. He held it up in warning.

“Arthur!” For the first time tonight, Uther sounded afraid. “No! Please… Whatever I have done, I have done for Camelot.”

And Camelot was still all he could think of, Merlin realised. Even now, facing the end, when he had one last chance, Uther Pendragon couldn’t find it in him to be a father first.

“You’ve had your turn,” Arthur said shakily. “Now it’s mine.”

Arthur blew the horn.

Merlin watched as Uther disappeared, and he ached for the pain in Arthur’s eyes. But then Arthur focused on _him_ , and Merlin was overcome by the wave of emotions he saw there. There was grief and sadness, but there was also relief, and in that moment, Merlin understood why.

Finally, Arthur had been able to save Merlin from Uther in ways he couldn’t when he was still alive. Arthur had shown Uther everything he truly was, and before Uther’s very eyes, Arthur had chosen Merlin.

Both men processed this knowledge as their eyes bore into each other across the room. Neither of them could move yet. There was too much to feel. But Merlin knew that, once they did move, he would make sure Arthur knew he was proud. He would make sure Arthur knew he was loved and accepted, tonight and every day for as long as they lived.

*

“I always looked up to my father,” Arthur said. He was on his back on their bed, Merlin beside him. Arthur couldn’t stop staring up at the canopy above them. “I admired him more than anyone, respected him in many ways even after I learned the truth about what sort of person he was.” The shame made it nearly impossible to confess, but he had to. “I have to accept that he only loved me as long as I was the son he thought he made me into. Now that he knows who I really am and what I truly believe…” He trailed off, and the room was silent until he felt a warm hand curl over his own.

“Uther did what he thought he had to do to protect the Kingdom,” Merlin said softly. “That doesn’t make him right, and it doesn’t make him a good king or a good father. He was never what you deserved, Arthur.”

Arthur turned his head and found Merlin looking at him with such pure adoration that he had to blink against the brightness of it. He considered Merlin’s words. “Perhaps that’s true.”

He didn’t protest when Merlin scooted closer and wrapped an arm across Arthur’s waist. When Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s chest, Arthur kissed it and inhaled the lovely, familiar scent that felt more like home than anything else in the palace.

“I want to build a kingdom that is fair and just,” Arthur whispered, after Merlin had magicked the room into darkness. “One where everyone is respected regardless of rank.”

“That’s what makes you a better king, Arthur. Your big, beautiful heart.”

Arthur smiled. “I meant what I said to my father, you know. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today if I didn’t know you.”

Merlin didn’t say anything, but Arthur could feel his grin against his skin. Arthur pressed Merlin tighter against him, and marvelled at how good it felt, to have his arms around so much magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my top three favorite episodes of Merlin, specifically because of how I could see it SHOULD have gone in my head, and now I finally get to share that version of it with all of you. I hope it gives you as many feels as it gives me.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	3. S5E4: Another’s Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 4, series 5 of BBC Merlin - Another’s Sorrow.
> 
> When a friend in need shows up in Camelot, Arthur is determined to help - even if everyone around him is worried about it.

“Arthur?” Gwen asked. She was sitting with Lancelot at the table, while Arthur and Merlin prepared for the rescue mission – meaning Arthur tried to pack and Merlin had to re-do it, and Arthur pretended not to notice because he thought it was sweet. Arthur paused in his bustling and looked towards Gwen.

“Yes?”

“Why have you agreed to help Mithian?”

“Because Nemeth is our ally,” Arthur replied.

“One small slip and Camelot could find itself without a king,” she said.

“That’s a risk I am prepared to take,” Arthur said, nearly instinctively, despite the fact that it made everyone in the room glare at him briefly.

“I’ll be there to look after him, I won’t let that happen,” Merlin said with his head still inside the wardrobe.

“Are you risking it for Nemeth?” Gwen asked. “Or for yourself?”

Arthur stopped moving entirely now, as he realised both Gwen and Lancelot were looking at him significantly, like they had prepared for this conversation.

“What do you mean, for myself?”

“It was Odin who took your father’s life,” Lancelot said. Arthur noticed Merlin freeze in his peripheral vision. “You can’t deny that you have been waiting for a chance to retaliate.”

“What I feel about Odin has nothing to do with this,” Arthur said roughly. He did not want to have this conversation, certainly not in front of Merlin.

“Really?” Gwen asked.

“Absolutely not,” he assured them. “This is about helping our friends, no more, no less.”

“Good,” Lancelot said. “We just wanted to be sure.”

“You were right to ask,” Arthur replied. “I rely on your honesty.”

Arthur turned his back to them and found Merlin looking at him from the wardrobe. Arthur fought the urge to kick out Gwen and Lancelot for having put that look of concern in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur tried for a small smile and a reassuring nod. Merlin got back to work, but the concern was still there.

*

“Is everything alright?” Gwen asked. She picked up her pace down the hall, stopping by Mithian and her attendant. She’d heard sounds of distress, and now Mithian was clinging to Hilda like she was in pain.

“The princess was feeling a little faint, that’s all,” Hilda said, smiling like a perfectly charming old woman. “We were just getting some air.”

Gwen thought, like she had thought since first seeing the woman, that there was something oddly familiar with Hilda, and something she didn’t fully trust.

She turned her attention to Mithian. “I hope you’re feeling better now,” Gwen said, fighting the urge to step between the princess and the older woman.

When Mithian looked up at her, Gwen thought her eyes looked particularly red and tired.

“Much better,” Mithian said meekly. “Thank you.”

“We won’t detain you any further, my lady,” Hilda said. Gwen felt as though the woman’s eyes were boring through her skin, despite the kindly smile. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Gwen said, suddenly eager to get back to the safety and comfort of her room. “Sleep well.”

*

Gwen had found Merlin early in the morning and told her about the bad feeling she got when she ran into Hilda and Mithian that night, and it put Merlin even more on edge than he already was. He didn’t feel good about this rescue mission, and he felt doubly uncomfortable that he didn’t know why.

“Arthur?” Merlin ran up to Arthur. He was just done preparing himself to leave.

“What is it?”

“This mission…” Merlin trailed off, not certain how to explain.

“It’s too dangerous so I shouldn’t go,” Arthur said blandly.

“You were thinking the same?”

“No, I just know your facial expressions, and that one is the _this is too dangerous_ look. You have told me this before several missions, yet here I am, two legs, two arms, all my own teeth.”

Merlin sighed. “This is different. I have a funny feeling that there is something we’re missing. Something we don’t know.”

“But you can’t say what, exactly?”

“No, and I don’t like it. Not with…” Merlin hesitated. He didn’t like bringing up the vision about Arthur’s death, it always resulted in a disagreement. Besides, Mordred wasn’t coming with them this time, though that didn’t calm Merlin at all. “Maybe we should delay, just until we have all the facts at our disposal.”

Arthur gave him an uncharacteristically patient look. “Merlin, I can’t tell Princess Mithian that we’re leaving her father to possible death because we don’t have all the facts.”

Merlin swallowed. He knew Arthur was right, but it didn’t help his bad feeling. “No, of course not. Just promise me to stay vigilant when we’re out there.”

Arthur smiled. “Aren’t I always?”

*

Merlin’s bad feeling worsened when they stopped in the forest to rest. He helped Mithian down from her horse when he noticed there were ugly marks on her wrists.

“How did you get that?” he blurted out before he could stop.

“I…” Mithian looked positively frightened by the question. “I was bound by Odin’s men before I escaped.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that…” In fact, he wasn’t entirely convinced. Surely she would have mentioned such an important detail to the King?

“It’s a very painful memory.” Hilda was between Merlin and Mithian like she was trying to shield the princess. “I’m sure she’d rather not dwell on it.”

Merlin hesitated, looking between Mithian and Hilda. “Of course. I understand.”

He did not, in fact, understand. His bad feeling felt like it had a pointed edge now. Something was wrong with their story, and Merlin’s suspicion was aiming in Hilda’s direction.

*****

It was starting to get dark, and they had found an abandoned, fallen house to set up camp. Arthur and Merlin sat by the fire, and Arthur was enjoying this quiet moment alone together until Merlin started speaking.

“Arthur, are you sure this is the right thing to be doing?”

“Your funny feeling again?”

“Something like that,” Merlin said.

“Does this feeling have anything to do with what Gwen and Lancelot said?”

“No, not really,” Merlin said, but he didn’t sound entirely certain of his own answer.

“Odin is a plague on this land,” Arthur said. “I can’t just stand by and let him murder Mithian’s father like he did mine.”

Merlin’s gaze snapped up at him, and Arthur realised he had gotten too defensive about something Merlin might not even have been concerned about. He was now, though.

“I know what he did,” Merlin said. “Gods know I understand why you hate him. But if you’re taking this risk for revenge…”

Arthur knew he had brought this on himself, but he couldn’t leave it alone now. “I don't want to avenge my father, Merlin. After everything, I know he doesn't deserve it. But what Odin did, it..." He wasn't sure how to explain. It didn't matter what kind of person Uther was. When he died, the last of Arthur's family - his old family - was gone. That hurt on a level he couldn't shake. "Tell me," he tried. "If you were me, if you were in my shoes. Would you do any different?”

Merlin considered for a long moment. “Probably not,” he replied, which reminded Arthur of just how good a person his sorcerer was. After all, they were talking about Uther. The man who caused so much misery to Merlin and people like him.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur finally managed to say. “I didn’t think…”

“Never apologise to me for having loved your father, Arthur,” Merlin said. He got to his feet and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Never.”

Merlin walked off to the trees to look for more firewood, and Arthur stared after him.

*

Merlin’s heart nearly stopped when he saw the name “Morgana” written crudely on the stone by the water, and when he turned to run back to camp and saw Hilda – Morgana – herself standing behind him, he only had a moment to wonder how the hells he hadn’t seen it earlier. Morgana sent him flying into a tree, her magic shooting burning pain through his body before he finally blacked out.

*

Arthur’s stomach dropped when Percival carried Merlin into the camp. “What happened?”

“Hilda found him,” Percival said as he placed Merlin gently on the ground.

“He was down by the river,” Hilda added. Arthur hadn’t even noticed her return. “He must have fallen.”

Arthur looked to Gaius, who was already examining Merlin. “Gaius?”

“He’s taken a heavy blow to the head.”

“Will he be alright?” Arthur could hear the edge of panic in his voice, and forced it down. He couldn’t lose his composure around both knights and allies. Mithian was staring at Merlin in evident concern.

“He should be fine, sire,” Gaius said, and Arthur’s heart could return to its normal pace. He trusted Gaius’s judgment. “But there is no telling when he will regain consciousness.”

Arthur looked at Mithian again, and then at Merlin’s sleeping form. He knew there wasn’t any choice, but he hated to make it all the same.

“We can’t wait for him, not if we’re to stand a chance at reaching Rodor before Odin’s men,” Arthur said. “Gwaine, Lancelot, stay here with Gaius and Merlin. The rest of us make for Nemeth.”

Gwaine and Lance agreed, and Arthur reluctantly moved the rest of the party along, trusting his friends to keep Merlin safe until he woke.

*

“He should have come around by now,” Gwaine commented. He was leaning against a half-collapsed wall, but a moment before he had been crouching by Merlin, and before that he had been pacing between Gaius and Lancelot. Gwaine was not good at keeping still. Or waiting.

Lancelot, however, couldn’t move from the stone where he sat. He could only stare at Merlin’s still form as Gaius tended to him.

“It’s unusual, certainly,” Gaius said. He sounded like he was trying not to seem concerned.

“Just a blow to the head, you say?” Lancelot asked. He locked eyes with Gwaine, and knew they were thinking the same thing. It seemed unlikely for someone as powerful as Merlin to be incapacitated by something as common as a blow to the head.

“There’s nothing to suggest anything more,” Gaius said. “On the outside at least. He’s getting cold.” He looked up at Gwaine, who had just started pacing again. “You better get some more firewood.”

“You’re thinking to try magic?” Gwaine asked.

“Do you think that will work?” Lancelot added.

“Impossible to say,” Gaius admitted. “My skills are limited and out of practice. But I have to try.” He looked significantly at Gwaine. “And we _do_ need more wood for the fire. Besides, your pacing is a distraction I don’t need.”

Gwaine looked like he thought he should be offended, but couldn’t be bothered. “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Once Gwaine was gone, Gaius began. Lancelot had never seen him look so focused. He moved his hands over Merlin, whispering unfamiliar words as he went.

“Come on, Merlin,” Lancelot whispered to himself. They needed Merlin to wake up – all of them did. Lancelot wondered if this is how Merlin felt when he saw Lancelot sacrifice himself before Merlin could. It was a particularly horrible feeling, watching a friend fade away.

Gaius stopped and started again a few times, to conserve his energy. He had just stopped for the third time when Gwaine returned with a bundle of twigs. All three men stared at Merlin in silence. Lancelot could barely take a breath, afraid it would somehow distract Merlin from healing.

All three of them exhaled with relief when he opened his eyes. They locked onto Gaius.

“Gaius! Hilda is Morgana,” Merlin blurted and tried to sit up too quickly.

“Morgana?” Lancelot pushed aside his relief over seeing Merlin awake at the urgency in his voice.

“She’s been using some kind of ageing spell,” Merlin replied.

“That explains why she’s always so tired,” Gaius mused.

“Mithian tried to warn me but I couldn’t get to Arthur in time. Morgana got to me first.”

“And she very nearly killed you, Merlin!” Gwaine finally found his voice.

Merlin looked from Gwaine, to Lancelot, to Gaius, and he smirked in a very Merlin way. “Yes, well, she didn’t count on a sorcerer of Gaius’s power, now did she?”

Gaius shook his head, but smiled. Gwaine and Lancelot helped both sorcerers to their feet.

“Indeed,” Gaius replied, “but please Merlin, don’t make me do that again. I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

Merlin embraced the older man. “I’ll do my best. Thank you.” He pulled away and looked at Gwaine and Lancelot, and Lancelot was, as always, awed to watch the transformation from regular Merlin to powerful sorcerer as Merlin’s focus shifted entirely to what needed to be done.

“We need to get to Arthur,” he said firmly. “Now. He’s walking straight into a trap.”

*

Lancelot, Gwaine and Merlin hid behind trees as they watched the knights get captured in the valley below. They’d had to leave Gaius behind so they could move quickly, and still it hadn’t been enough.

“We’re too late,” Lancelot said, echoing Merlin’s thoughts.

“Not if we even up the numbers.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gwaine agreed.

“I’ll look for Arthur, you two handle Odin’s men. Free the knights.” Merlin found it amazing how these two knights instinctively allowed Merlin – a _servant_ – to take the lead and give them orders. Neither of them even seemed to question it.

“Good luck,” Gwaine said, and Lancelot gave Merlin a significant look before they moved to circle the clearing.

Merlin managed to sneak past them towards the opening in the mountain, where his magic could already sense Arthur’s presence. Merlin made it through the halls to the main chamber just in time to see Odin moments away from killing Arthur. In the space between heartbeats, Merlin moved his magic through the earth until it begun to tremble. The shakes would be enough to bring the entire tomb down fast.

Merlin rushed into the tomb just as a soldier lunged at Arthur. Merlin took the soldier out, and Arthur gaped at him. Their eyes met. “Merlin?” Arthur sounded both relieved and incredulous, but there was no time for anything other than running. They ushered people out of the tomb when Merlin spotted Morgana, and used his magic to throw her against the wall before she could see him. He was certain she would survive the head injury as well as being buried in rock, but at least they were free of her for now.

In the clearing outside, Gwaine and Lancelot had freed Leon, Percival and the others, and they were fighting Odin’s men in near even numbers. There was no time to waste. Arthur and Merlin rushed Mithian and an older man Merlin assumed to be King Rodor, into the woods. A few knights followed them, but most were still in the fight. The group made it to a forest trail, but more men were already approaching them.

“This way!” Arthur shouted as he led the way between the trees. Some of Odin’s men caught up with them, but Arthur and King Rodor managed to kill them. Arthur looked at Rodor as the last man fell, clearly impressed.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Rodor said. “I commanded an army in my time.”

“And you will do so again,” Arthur said with a smile.

They only made it a little further, though, when King Rodor insisted they leave him behind.

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Arthur argued. “You’re the reason we’re here.”

“Leave me. Save Mithian,” Rodor insisted. Arthur hesitated, but behind them, more soldiers were making their way towards them.

Arthur looked at their surroundings. “Follow that ridge line.”

“What about you?” King Rodin asked.

“We’ll lead them the other way.”

“No!” Mithian exclaimed. “We can’t just –”

“This is between me and Odin,” Arthur said. “You need no further part in this.”

The princess looked at him with mournful gratitude, and the King thanked them as he led her away, leaving Merlin and Arthur on their own. They took off running.

*

They ran right into a dead end.

Turning around, Odin and his men blocked the direction they came from. Odin’s men started to move forwards, but the king stopped them.

“No!” Odin shouted. “I want to do this myself.”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a long look. Merlin wished he could stop this, fight the battle for Arthur somehow, but he knew this was something they needed to settle between themselves. With a nod to Merlin, Arthur walked towards Odin, sword at the ready. Odin met him, and the battle began.

Merlin watched with his heart in his throat. Arthur was a magnificent fighter, but Odin was experienced and put up a challenge. Despite that, the battle still ended with Odin weapon-less on his knees, Arthur’s sword at his throat. Merlin watched the anger and pain on Arthur’s face and knew what he was thinking.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted before Arthur could move to deliver a killing blow. “Stop.”

To his relief, Arthur did just that. He was tense and he didn’t look away from Odin, but he paused in his movements and listened.

“Think about what you’re doing,” Merlin said. “What good will this achieve? How many times have you talked about uniting this land? Will killing this man make that dream any closer?”

Silence fell over them. Merlin knew Arthur was remembering the last time he found himself in this position and didn’t show mercy. Of course, the King he faced then wasn’t responsible for his father’s death.

But to Merlin’s relief, he saw the features on Arthur’s face change. “He is right,” he said to Odin. “This is no answer.”

“Finish it,” Odin hissed. “Finish it and be done.”

“And what then?” Arthur asked. “Your people will seek their revenge. A war without end.”

“There is no other way.”

“There _is_ another way,” Arthur said. “In return for your life, you must restore Rodor to the throne of Nemeth.”

“Even if I agreed, it solves nothing,” Odin said, but Merlin could see him considering. “What about us, Pendragon?”

“A truce,” Arthur said, and Merlin felt that familiar pride bloom in his chest. “Binding our kingdoms to peace.”

“Never!”

“Is this what you want?” Arthur argued. “To die here, now, knowing you condemn this land to war! Odin, you cannot let it end like this. The blood will never wash off.”

“You killed my son,” Odin sneered.

“You killed my father! We have both lost much at the others hand. Let us loose no more. I am offering you a chance to end this. Take it!”

Arthur lowered his sword and plunged it into the dirt. He extended his hand to Odin. “Take it,” he repeated.

Odin stared into Arthur’s eyes, and Merlin held his breath.

“So be it,” the king said finally. “A truce it is.”

Odin took Arthur’s hand and shook it, and Arthur helped him to his feet. When he glanced behind him at Merlin, the sorcerer hoped his King could see just how spectacular he looked in Merlin’s eyes.

*

“You could have killed Odin,” Merlin said. They were home in the palace, walking together down an otherwise empty corridor. Mithian and her father had departed, on friendly terms. “You had every right,” he continued. “But you did something far more important.” He smiled and touched his hand to Arthur’s. “You gave the people of this land hope for the future. I’m proud of you.”

Arthur tried not to grin, but failed. “You should take _some_ of the credit.”

“Is that a compliment?” Merlin gasped loudly, and Arthur laughed.

“It slipped out,” he teased. “I suppose I’ll never hear the end of it now, will I?”

“Absolutely never,” Merlin agreed merrily, and snuck a kiss from Arthur before they rounded the corner.

*

Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot sat around the table in the King’s chambers. Gaius had joined them this evening. There was a plate of cheese on the table between them, but none of them had touched it. They were all deep in their own thoughts.

“It seems things turned out well after all,” Gaius said, breaking the silence. “To sign a treaty with Odin is an achievement, and it brings a united kingdom one step closer.”

Arthur was about to agree, but Merlin’s grim expression stopped him.

“Not while Morgana is out there, it doesn’t,” Merlin said. “Her power grows. To have held an ageing spell that long… That’s frightening.”

“You’ve used that spell often, haven’t you?” Lancelot asked.

“And each time, it drains my energy fast. Morgana used it repeatedly, for days.”

“Be that as it may,” Gaius said. “She is not yet your equal, Merlin.”

Arthur saw Merlin consider these words carefully, torn between the truth of his power and his natural tendency to be dismissive of his own strength.

“And if that day should come?” Merlin asked finally.

Gaius sighed deeply. “Let us hope it does not.”

Silence fell over the table again, though Gwen did take a piece of cheese. 

*

The brief return to Camelot had been stranger than Morgana expected.

This was not the first time she had been back; each of her short-lived victories had brought her there, but this time was different. This time, she had returned not as an enemy, but under the guise of friendship, and so she had not been _treated_ like an enemy.

Before their suspicions started, the people who used to be her friends had treated her like any other. She caught glimpses of the people she remembered them to be, the people she had not thought of them as for a very long time. Merlin had treated her like the kindly old lady she pretended to be. Arthur had treated her with as much respect as the princess she pretended to serve. And Gwen…

Oh, Gwen. Seeing her sitting there on the throne, Morgana had felt too many things, things she was not comfortable with. She didn’t like how naturally Gwen fit on that throne, the one that rightfully belonged to Morgana. She didn’t like the gentle, empathetic looks the Queen gave her as she stood beside Mithian. And later, in the hallway, Gwen had clearly become suspicious and that gentle look had faded.

But for a little while, Morgana had been reminded of how it used to feel, when she was a different person, still living among them as if she belonged there. It almost made her… sad, to remember so clearly what she had lost.

Morgana shook herself, scorning her own mind. What a thing to think! They weren’t to be trusted simply because they showed kindness to someone they thought to be an ally.

And the word around Camelot that Arthur was trying to _legalise_ magic? It was a trick, of course, some rumour they were spreading in an attempt to lull Morgana into a false sense of security. Well, she wasn’t going to fall for that sort of lie. She knew better.

The son of Uther Pendragon was no friend to magic, and he never would be.

Morgana believed that with all her heart, dark and cold as it had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	4. S5E5: The Disir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 4, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Disir.
> 
> Arthur and Merlin return to the Disir to plead for Mordred's life, and the two of them are faced with an impossible decision.

Arthur and Merlin made their way carefully through the cave tunnels for the second time, aware now not to disturb anything. Once they reached the chamber where the Disir awaited them, Arthur was especially grateful for Merlin’s presence. He couldn’t deny that the old, powerful Disir scared him. But Mordred was dying, dying for Arthur, and he had to do what he could to stop that from happening.

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“King of Camelot.”

“We have been expecting you.”

“My men and I behaved with arrogance and stupidity.” Arthur made himself use the familiar voice he used with other kings or queens. Respectful without relinquishing his authority. “We dishonoured this place and insulted your faith. I humbly beg your forgiveness. One amongst us, Sir Mordred… may yet pay the ultimate price. I have come here to petition for his life.”

“Why should we help you?”

“I ask not for myself,” Arthur said, “but for a young man whose only crime was to sacrifice himself for his king.”

“The future holds much pain and suffering for you, Arthur Pendragon.”

“For you and your people.”

“If you wish to save all you hold dear.”

“If you wish to save all your kingdom.”

“Embrace the Old Religion.”

“Learn her ways.”

“Bow to the Goddess.”

Though their words chilled him to the bones, Arthur hesitated a moment. “You know I have been trying to lift my father’s ban on magic. It isn’t that simple.”

“You are King.”

“You can make it so.”

“None can keep you from acting as you choose.”

“If I ignore the people opposing me, they will only grow more afraid and angry!” Arthur could tell he was losing his careful composure. They couldn’t possibly be this blind to the consequences of their request. “Chaos would break out, that would help no one!”

The Disir were not persuaded.

“Consider carefully. You have until dawn.”

*

“How did you know this place was sacred?” Arthur asked. Darkness surrounded them, except for the firelight. They sat across from each other, boots touching.

“That’s obvious,” Merlin said automatically. He couldn’t imagine _not_ feeling it.

“Pretend it isn’t.”

Merlin looked around at the forest hiding in the shadows. “Everything here is… so full of life. Every tree, every leaf. Every insect. It’s as if the world is vibrating. As if everything is much more than itself.”

He looked back at Arthur, who was staring at him with that awed look, the one Merlin was never quite certain he deserved.

“You feel all that?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Don’t you?”

Arthur shook his head, still staring. Well, if he was going to be like _that_ … Merlin moved and sat down next to Arthur, twining their fingers together and leaning against his shoulder. How was he supposed to not touch Arthur when he looked at him like that?

“What will you do?” Merlin whispered. They couldn’t avoid the situation forever.

He felt Arthur swallow. “I don’t know. My heart says I should do anything I can to save Mordred… But we have seen the damage fear can do. There are still people who remember the time before my father outlawed magic. I’ve seen how my council still struggles with it. They remember it as a time Camelot was nearly destroyed by sorcery. In our own time, they have seen Morgana use it for nothing but evil. If I force this change, the people who are afraid will retaliate against anyone they suspect of having magic. People will get hurt.”

Arthur fell into silence, and Merlin knew how much he was struggling. Merlin struggled, too. Kilgharrah’s words through the years echoed in his mind, repeating over and over that Mordred was not to be trusted, that he was Arthur’s doom. The vision he had seen still haunted Merlin day and night. The Old Religion seemed so determined that Mordred was destined to kill Arthur. But Merlin found it difficult to accept, when he knew Mordred to be a loyal and mindful person. The two views didn’t match.

“What would you do?” Arthur asked, barely above a whisper. “In my place?”

Merlin hesitated. “I am not the king, Arthur. I’m just a lackey, maker of beds.”

“You’re the person I trust most,” Arthur corrected. “Besides, _lackeys_ can be wise. I could use some wisdom right now.”

“The kingdom’s future is at stake,” Merlin said.

“And a man’s life.”

Merlin forced a deep breath. “As much as I wish otherwise,” he said, “I know you are right about people’s fears. You must protect Camelot. You must protect the world you spent your life building – a just and fair kingdom for all.” His next words hurt him to his core as he said them, but he knew they needed to be said. For all their sakes. “The masses aren’t ready for that to included sorcerers just yet. One day they will be, when you help them see the truth. But if you force the change on them instantly, it would end badly.”

Arthur was quiet for so long, Merlin wondered if he had fallen asleep. Finally, though, he spoke. “If I do save Mordred, if I do as the Disir asks, you could finally be free to be yourself. Isn’t that what you want?” Arthur’s hand tightened around his, and Merlin straightened up so he could look into Arthur’s eyes.

“More than I can explain,” Merlin said truthfully. “But not at the cost of peace.”

“I know that my father was wrong,” Arthur said. “That the old ways aren’t as evil as we thought. I know that, given time, others will see it too. But I _need_ time.” He swallowed. “Do we make everyone accept magic, if they want to or not… or let Mordred die?”

Neither option was acceptable to Arthur, Merlin knew that. But a choice had to be made. Merlin felt an aching pain in his chest. It might be the right decision, but it still hurt.

“Today,” he said, “there can be no place for magic in Camelot. Your supporters are not ready to accept it.”

Arthur didn’t reply, but took Merlin in his arms. They stayed like that through the night, waiting for dawn.

*

“You have returned.”

“Is your decision made?”

“It is,” Arthur said. He forced his shoulders straight, his chin to stay high. He could not show the pain he felt, it would make it that much worse. “I cannot do as you ask.”

“Consider carefully, Arthur Pendragon.”

“This is your last chance to save all that is dear to you.”

“It will not come again.”

Arthur forced air deep into his lungs before he replied. “I _will_ lift the ban on magic,” he said. “But I cannot force the decision on my people. They must be ready to accept it, they must support my decision, and for now, most of them are not there.”

“You have made your decision.”

“Sealed your fate.”

“And that of your kingdom.”

“Farewell, Arthur Pendragon.”

*

“You did the right thing,” Merlin said on their way home.

“I condemned a good man to death and denied you freedom.”

“For the sake of Camelot,” Merlin reminded him. 

Arthur sighed. “Mordred saved my life, Merlin. More than once.”

“I know.” It was one of the many things about Mordred that made Merlin struggle to accept the prophecies.

The two of them moved in silence for a little while, when Arthur stopped so he could look Merlin in the eyes. “I swear to you, Merlin,” Arthur said, voice thick with emotion. “One day, I will make this right. You will not hide who you are forever.”

Merlin couldn’t help but smile. “I know that, Arthur. I have faith in you.”

*

Arthur and Merlin both froze when they saw who stood on the castle steps to greet them.

Mordred, looking like the picture of health. A thousand little things clicked into place for Merlin all at once.

“Of course.” He wasn’t sure Arthur even heard him; they were both staring up at Mordred in complete shock. “The Disir believe implicitly in the prophecies of the old religion,” Merlin said. “They let Mordred live as your punishment, Arthur. They want him free to play his part in your death.”

That startled Arthur into motion. He turned to Merlin. “You can’t still think–”

“No,” Merlin said quickly. “In fact, I just realised something. I need to talk to Mordred alone.”

_I will not make the same mistake again._

*

“The King said you wished to speak with me?”

Merlin looked up from his book – Gaius’s book – to find Mordred standing in the door of the physician’s chambers. Gaius had been kind enough to lend Merlin use of the rooms for this conversation. It seemed the most fitting place, somehow.

“I did,” Merlin said. “Come in. Sit. Please.”

Merlin gestured towards the seat across the table from him, and Mordred did as he was asked. He was still in his uniform, which Merlin also thought fitting. It suited the boy well, a true representation of his best qualities.

“Is this about the Disir?” Mordred asked.

“Yes and no,” Merlin replied. Now that they were here, he wasn’t quite sure where to start. There seemed to be so many beginnings, so many parts he wanted Mordred to know. The young knight waited patiently while he watched Merlin gather his thoughts.

“How much do you know of the prophecies of the Old Religion?” Merlin asked. “Did the Druids teach their children about such things?”

Mordred looked puzzled, but went along with the question. “I know the elders all believed in prophecies,” he said. “But they are not for everyone to hear. Only the ones charged with passing a prophecy on to the next generations were taught about them, since it’s not for all to know the destinies of a few.”

“I understand,” Merlin nodded. “Well, it may not surprise you that several Druids, and other remnants of the Old Religion, have insisted on revealing quite a few prophecies and destinies to me over the years.”

Mordred smiled. “Of course they have. You’re Emrys.”

“Well, along with that name has come quite a few other burdens,” Merlin said. “And one thing that I have been told ever since our first meeting is…” Merlin swallowed. Mordred seemed to sense his nervousness because he leaned forward and put his gloved hand next to Merlin’s.

“It’s alright, Merlin. Something must have made you choose to tell me whatever it is, so… Just say it. I can take it.”

Merlin smiled at the young knight’s bravery. “That is what I am choosing to believe,” he said. “In the past, I allowed prophecy to guide me to the point of disaster, though that is a story for later. What matters now is, I allowed other’s interpretations and beliefs to overshadow what I believed in my heart, at great cost. I will not repeat my mistake now. I need to believe that people have a choice in their own destiny. That they can choose to take a different path.”

“You are saying you’ve been told of a path set for me,” Mordred guessed. “One you now believe I can choose not to take.”

“Exactly,” Merlin replied. It was time to just say it. No more hesitating. He had made this choice; he had to follow through. “Mordred, there are prophecies that say that Arthur is destined to die by your hand.”

Mordred seemed to freeze in place. His eyes were glued to his own hand on the table like he was afraid to look away. Merlin made a choice and placed his hand over the young knight’s.

“I’m telling you this,” Merlin said, “because I believe we have choices. I believe we can overcome whatever fate destiny has imagined for us.”

Mordred looked up and met Merlin’s gaze. “This is why you have always been wary towards me. Isn’t it? You feared this prophecy.”

“I did,” Merlin admitted. “I have feared many prophecies through the years, and that fear has led me to do things I deeply regret.”

“And you no longer fear this one?” Mordred asked. Merlin could see the young man’s budding panic. “Do you no longer believe it to be true?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Merlin insisted. “What I believe in is the strength and goodness of your heart that I see every day. I believe that knowing of this one possible destiny, you will be able to make the right choices that will lead to a different outcome.”

Mordred considered this for a moment. “What if that faith in me is misplaced? What if this still comes to pass?”

Merlin fought a smile. “Do you _want_ to kill the King?”

A look of horror crossed the knight’s face. “No, never!”

“Then my faith is not misplaced.” Merlin patted Mordred’s hand before he retreated. He watched as the knight thought through all this, allowed it all to settle in his mind. When he finally looked at Merlin again, there was an awe there that Merlin hadn’t seen in him since he was a small boy.

“I am proud that your belief in me is so strong,” he said. “I will do everything in my power to prove worthy of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	5. S5E6: The Dark Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 6, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Dark Tower.
> 
> Gwen is taken. Her family will move heaven and earth to get her back.

Arthur and Lancelot came storming into the physician’s chambers while Merlin was helping Gaius tend to Percival and Leon.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, taking in the scene. Two injured knights, the rest looking concerned.

“We were riding,” Elyan spoke up. “Came upon a nest of snakes.”

“Where’s Guinevere?” Lancelot asked. The knights all exchanged glances.

“Where is she?” Arthur asked.

“I told her to get away,” Elyan said, voice heavy with regret. “She fled…”

Lancelot’s eyes hardened, and he turned and rushed out of the room. Both Arthur and Merlin hurried after him down the hall.

“Lancelot?” Merlin called.

“Just tell me when we leave,” Lancelot said once they caught up to him.

“We ride at dawn,” Arthur replied.

“Good.”

*

Merlin found Lancelot in his chambers, moving around the room as his hand trailed over several of Gwen’s things. He glanced towards the door.

“Merlin,” he said by way of greeting.

“I wanted you to know that Leon and Percival are safe. They are well on their road to recovery.”

“That’s good,” Lancelot said, but his voice seemed small and sad.

“Lancelot…” Merlin swallowed. “There is evidence of sorcery. Gaius suspects Morgana is involved.”

Lancelot stopped moving and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I was afraid of that. That she would try to get to Arthur through her, someday.” Lancelot looked back up at Merlin. “I’ve already lost her too many times.”

“You’re not going to lose her,” Merlin insisted, and he believed it. “You’re not. We will find her.” Merlin crossed the room and held his hand out to Lancelot. “I swear.”

Lancelot hesitated for a moment, then clasped Merlin’s hand and shook it. Merlin smiled. “We’ll bring her home.”

*

“Arthur?” Merlin said gently. Arthur stood perfectly still, staring into the forest. His shoulders looked too tense, like he might snap. It was too dark for them to follow the trail further; even Merlin didn’t have the power to summon more daylight.

“She can’t be far,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Merlin replied. “But we have to work together.”

“This is because she married me. Because she did us a kindness, because she wanted us to have the chance of a life together. Gwen and Lancelot sacrificed so much for us and now…”

“This isn’t our fault, Arthur,” Merlin said, not afraid to raise his voice now because he needed Arthur to really hear him. “It’s not _your_ fault. Morgana did this. She alone is to blame for pulling Gwen into this mess. Alright?”

Arthur didn’t say anything in reply, but he turned and met Merlin’s gaze. After a moment, he nodded, though Merlin knew he wasn’t convinced.

“We’ll make camp,” Merlin said, holding out his hand. “Get a fire going, in the morning we’ll pick up the trail again. Come on.”

He waited until Arthur took his hand, and Merlin led the way back to the others.

*

Lancelot had too many emotions coursing through him to sit still, so when he saw Elyan standing alone away from the campfire, he joined him.

“Elyan.”

The other knight glanced at him, nodding in greeting, but his eyes quickly got a faraway look in them as he returned to his thoughts.

“If I stayed with her…” Elyan said.

“You saved Percival,” Lancelot pointed out. “You saved Leon.”

“But not my own sister.”

“We cannot blame ourselves, Elyan.” Gwen wouldn’t approve of that.

“She raised me. I don’t know what I’d be if it wasn’t for her.” Elyan said sadly. “You wouldn’t understand. I can’t explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Lancelot said. “I know exactly what it means to have ones life changed and bettered by Gwen being in it.”

Elyan looked up at him, searching Lancelot’s eyes. Finally he nodded, understanding. Neither of them would be who they were if it wasn’t for Gwen. They had to get her back. They needed her.

*

They were all woken up in the middle of the knight by Leon’s shouts. Merlin rushed to his side to check for injuries or side effects from the poison. Leon sat up on his bedroll, blinking and looking around with a terrified expression. He was breathing heavily.

“It’s alright,” Merlin said soothingly.

“The tower,” Leon said, still looking around like he wasn’t quite back in the waking world. “Everything in its shadow… was dead. The sound, it was like… Like children screaming.”

“The rain that fell was like blood,” came from the bedroll beside them.

Merlin looked over at Percival, whose expression mirrored Leon’s exactly.

“I had the same dream,” Percival said. His eyes were clearing up as he tried to focus. “I was lost in a forest, the trees had claws, and when I finally escaped it there was a plain…”

“Empty as far as the eye can see,” Leon continued. “Except…”

“Beyond the skyline there was a black pillar of stone,” Percival finished.

“The tower was so dark, it could swallow the sun,” Leon said, more awake now.

“The Dark Tower,” Arthur said. The other knights looked at him in surprise. “It’s a place where every young knight is taught to dread, and rightly so. It’s a place where many have met their end.”

“I have never heard of it,” Merlin said.

“With good reason. It’s said that the mere mention of it can bring doom to those who hear it.” A tense silence fell over the camp, broken by Gwaine.

“Well, let’s not mention it again,” he grumbled. “I was having a dream of eating a cheese that tasted of apple pie. Anyone else had that dream?” He looked around. “Well, you’re all missing out.”

He flipped back down on his bedroll, and as most of the other knights did the same, Arthur looked at Merlin and Lancelot. He indicated for them to follow him a little away from the campsite.

“Why would they both have the same dream?” Arthur asked in a low voice.

“The poison,” Merlin said. “It must still be coursing through their veins.” He hesitated. “Morgana conjured those snakes. Leon and Percival would be dead if that’s what she wanted.”

“What are you saying?” Lancelot asked.

“She planted those visions in their minds,” Merlin explained. “It’s a trap. She is luring Arthur to his doom.”

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a look.

“And the tower?” Lancelot asked. “It’s where she’s taken Gwen, isn’t it?”

Merlin nodded. “I believe so.”

*

In the morning, Arthur stood before the other knights and asked for their attention.

“I’ve decided to journey with Lancelot to the Dark Tower,” he said. “It’s our belief that Gwen has been imprisoned there. I don’t know what horrors will be waiting, so we will travel alone.”

“No, you won’t,” Elyan argued, just like Merlin had expected.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision.”

“You can’t stop me, Arthur, She’s my sister!”

“Nor me either,” Percival said. “She’s our Queen.”

“And our friend,” Leon added.

“She’s a maiden in a tower,” Gwaine said with a grin. “A damsel in distress. I was born for this moment!"

Arthur nodded, a look of pride in his eyes, but Lancelot turned to Merlin. “You can turn back, you know,” Lancelot told him.

“I made you a promise, remember?” Merlin said. “I am not turning back.”

*

After too much time and struggle, they made it through the abhorring impenetrable forest, and across the desert plane that separated it from the tall, looming tower in the distance, and now, finally, they stood at the entrance to the Dark Tower. The knights all had swords drawn, but there were no guards, nothing to keep anyone away.

“Something’s wrong,” Merlin said once they were inside, climbing a staircase with nothing in their way. “It’s too easy.”

“Are you ever happy?” Arthur asked, but Merlin knew he thought the same thing.

They reached the top of the stairs with Elyan rushing in front of the group. When they entered the room with the trap flagstones and flying arrows, Elyan kept rushing, moving far ahead of the others.

When he reached the other side of the room, he didn’t wait for them.

*

They were too late.

When Lancelot entered the room it was only to find Elyan dying in Gwen’s arms. Gwen held him and cried, and this was the furthest thing from the reunion Lancelot had wished for. He looked at his good friend, bleeding over Gwen’s dress.

Elyan had died to set his sister free. Lancelot would never be able to thank him for that, but he would spend the rest of his own life taking care of Elyan’s sister, and love her like she deserved to be loved. It would never be enough, Lancelot knew, as he saw the life fade from Elyan’s eyes.

He crossed the room and sank to the floor beside Gwen. She began to sob the moment he put his arms around her, and he held her as they both wept.

*

“I was warned one of us would not return,” Merlin whispered. The forest nymph’s words still echoed in his mind.

“This isn’t your fault, Merlin,” Lancelot replied. They stood beside each other in the crowd and watched Gwen and Arthur down by the water. They couldn’t be down there with them – it wouldn’t be appropriate – but at least Arthur could be there for Gwen as the flaming arrow hit Elyan’s funeral boat.

“Elyan is _dead_ ,” Merlin said. Of course it was his fault. If he had just made different choices in the past…

“The sword that Elyan fell brave to was surely intended for Arthur,” Lancelot said gently. “He is safe. And so is Gwen. And neither of them holds anyone responsible for this but Morgana. We were all there; you cannot carry this death on your conscious. Elyan chose to give his life for Gwen. We cannot deprive him of his final choice. We cannot blame ourselves.”

Oh, but Merlin could. But he couldn’t admit that to Lancelot, couldn’t bring himself to say the words that would make his friend turn away in disappointment. For now, he could only stand silently and watched as their friend burned away.

*

She wished it didn’t have to be this way, truly. She wished Gwen would have turned to her voluntarily, that she could choose Morgana without trickery and magic. As much as she loathed to admit it to herself, Morgana had missed her friend dearly. She wished Gwen understood, that she had stayed by her side from the beginning out of her own free will.

But such dreams were pointless, and lingering on them wouldn’t make them real. She had Gwen back now, as much as she would ever get her back. Even if it was brought on my magic, Gwen loved her again, and would do anything for her.

Morgana would have to be satisfied with that. After all, the most important thing was how useful Gwen was. Wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	6. S5E7: A Lesson in Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 7, series 5 of BBC Merlin - A Lesson in Vengeance.
> 
> Something is wrong with Gwen, and Merlin fears he may have realised it too late to save Arthur's life.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just us,” Arthur said from his horse. He rode up front, with Merlin behind him on the trail, followed by Gwen and with Lancelot in the back. It may be a special day, but Arthur and Lancelot were still knights. Merlin chuckled at the idea of him and Gwen being the damsels in need of protecting.

“This picnic was a good idea,” Merlin complemented. He and Gwen had been pleasantly surprised when they entered the king’s chambers to find their significant others waiting with a basket, blankets and a lovely invitation.

“Aren’t you impressed that I remembered our anniversary?” Arthur asked smugly.

“But you didn’t remember,” Lancelot spoke up from the back. “I reminded you over a month ago.”

Arthur spluttered. “Well, yes, but I remembered that it was today… today.”

“Actually, I did,” Merlin said with a grin.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur muttered, and everyone except the King laughed loud enough to startle birds out of the trees around them.

The laughter was cut off by the sound of an explosion in the grass. The horses reared in fright and surprise, Arthur’s most of all, and with a snap, the girth of his saddle broke and sent Arthur falling to the ground just as a group of bandits came out of the trees and rushed them.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted. He jumped off his horse at the same time as Lancelot, who stormed the bandits with his sword. Merlin ran towards Arthur where a bandit was just about to swipe towards him. With a blink of his eyes, Merlin sent the bandit’s sword flying out of his hands. Arthur sent him a brief look of gratitude before he turned to the fight.

Once all the bandits were killed or fled, all four of them looked at each other. Finally Lancelot knelt besides Arthur’s fallen saddle.

“This girth has been cut,” he announced solemnly. “This was planned.” Lancelot looked up at Arthur. “Someone just tried to kill you.”

*

“How long have you known Tyr?” Merlin asked once the two of them were alone.

“He’s been in my service since he was a boy.”

Merlin could hear how Arthur tried to keep all emotion out of his voice. “Do you really think he could be capable of this treason?” The man had seemed so upset at the idea.

“What I think is irrelevant,” Arthur replied. “The facts speak for themselves.”

“Arthur, to sentence him to death?”

Finally, Arthur stopped and looked at him. “The law is the law, Merlin,” he said, pain visible beneath his kingly façade. “Whether I like it or not.”

*

Lancelot, Gwen and Arthur were having dinner in the King’s chambers when Merlin entered. Arthur took one look at his face and sighed.

“You went to see Tyr in the cells.”

“Yes,” Merlin admitted. Arthur stood and took Merlin’s hand.

“We’ve been over this,” Arthur said. “The evidence doesn’t lie.”

“No one denies the crime, but the only part that Tyr played was to see it done.”

Arthur hesitated a moment. “He told you this.”

“Five minutes ago,” Merlin confirmed.

“Then who was it?”

“He won’t say, he’s too frightened. They threatened him, threatened his mother’s life. But his fear was real, Arthur, I swear it.”

Arthur nodded. “I must speak with him, at once.”

He made to follow Merlin out the door, when Gwen abruptly stood from her seat.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. “If he is truly so frightened, perhaps it would be better not to push him further tonight. Let him think it over and maybe a night in the cells will leave him prepared to say more.”

Merlin stared at Gwen. What a strange suggestion, he thought. She had to know this was urgent. He glanced at Lancelot at his seat beside her. He was looking up at her in surprise, as well.

“Or perhaps a night in the cell will him more afraid to confide in us,” Lancelot said. “We shouldn’t take that risk.”

“I’ve known Tyr for a long time,” Gwen said solemnly. “I believe we are more likely to get the truth from him in the morning.” She looked at Arthur pleadingly. “For tonight, why not take Gaius’s advice and rest, let your injuries heal.”

Arthur considered. “It’s true you may know Tyr better than we do.” He thought for a moment longer, and closed the door. “Very well, we go first thing in the morning.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said, “I don’t think–”

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Let’s just retire. I rely on Gwen’s council.”

And like that, the matter was settled. Lancelot and Gwen both left the table and made for the door connecting their chambers. Gwen smiled at Merlin before she left, but there was something as off about her smile as there had been about her words.

Merlin and Lancelot exchanged a long look before he followed her through the door, both of them clearly thinking the same thing. Something wasn’t right with Gwen, and neither of them knew what to make of it.

*

“I don’t think this is over,” Merlin said once Gaius and Arthur had left the room, leaving him alone with Gwaine. Tyr had been found killed in his cell that morning and everything about this felt wrong.

“What do you mean?” Gwaine asked.

“Well, whoever’s responsible for the attack on Arthur’s life, what’s to stop them from trying again?”

Gwaine put a hand on Merlin’s arm. “They haven’t a chance. The Citadel’s on full alert, every entrance, every exit’s being watched.” He smiled kindly. “Trust me, Arthur’s safe as long as he remains in Camelot.”

“That’s just it,” Merlin said, unable to hide his concern. “What if he’s _not_ safe here? What if Camelot’s the most dangerous place that he could be? Who could have access to the stables, who could have known the layout of the cells? Who knew that Tyr would do anything to protect his mother?” Merlin leaned forward and looked pleadingly at Gwaine. “You need to stay close to Arthur, and do whatever you can to protect him.”

Gwaine nodded with a fierce look in his eyes. “You have my word on it, Merlin. No one who wishes him harm will be able to get past both of us.”

*

Merlin had had a bad feeling about Gwen since she delayed Arthur from seeing Tyr, but he had looked for every opportunity to ignore that bad feeling. Now, as he held one of her dresses in his hand and compared it to the torn lace they found in the forest…

There was no denying it anymore.

Gwen had been compromised by Morgana.

Merlin abandoned the laundry and ran, as fast as his feet could carry him through the halls of the castle, towards the chambers where he knew Gwen and Arthur were having dinner alone while Lancelot was on patrol. Merlin didn’t pause to knock before he sprinted into the room. He froze in the doorway. Gwen was nowhere to be seen.

There was only Arthur, slumped in his chair, unconscious.

*

The knights and Gwen stood around Arthur’s bed as Gaius finished his examination. Merlin stood behind them, leaning against the wall as he tried to keep his terrified mind from running away from him. Lancelot stood beside him as if prepared to support him if Merlin slumped over – and since that was a very real possibility, Merlin was grateful for the brotherly hand on his shoulder.

“All the evidence suggests that the King has been poisoned,” Gaius said, his eyes flickering sadly to Merlin before he focused on the Queen.

“You’re certain, Gaius?” Gwen asked.

“Quite certain. The sweating, the corruption of the skin, the traces of tincture around the ear. They all point to the use of henbane.”

Merlin felt himself go numb. Henbane. Gaius had taught him well enough that he knew that was bad. Very bad.

“Is there no hope?” Gwen asked. Her voice was trembling, but… It wasn’t right. Merlin couldn’t put his finger on it, like he couldn’t with any of her other strange behaviours, but now he knew that his gut feeling was right. He looked at Lancelot and found his eyes already on him, noticing the same thing in Gwen’s voice. Merlin shook his head. They couldn’t discuss it now.

“The poison is a deadly one, my lady,” Gaius said, and Merlin couldn’t feel anything. Nothing except the painful beat of his heart. “There may be a way to arrest its course,” Gaius continued, “but I cannot guarantee it.”

_Dying_ , Merlin thought. _Arthur is dying_.

“One thing I know for certain,” Gwen said, and Merlin’s eyes turned on her instantly. There was that tone again, something underneath Gwen’s regular voice that turned it false. “Whoever did this,” Gwen continued, “lives among us. Whoever did this has betrayed us all.” She looked around at the gathered knights, and then at Arthur. “Someone who is free to roam the Citadel as they please, someone who has access to the King’s stables…”

_No. She’s not truly going to–_

“… The King’s prison….”

_Dear gods, she is. She’s doing this._

“… Even the King’s food,” Gwen said.

Merlin looked at Lancelot. He was staring in horror at Gwen, making the same connection as Merlin. Lancelot glanced at Merlin quickly, shaking his head. His hand on Merlin’s shoulder tightened like he wanted to push him behind his back to protect him. Merlin knew they were far beyond that now.

“There is only one I can think of.” Gwen’s voice hitched like it was too impossible to conceive – and yet somehow she had conceived of it.

She turned to stare at Merlin. He stared right back.

“Merlin.”

*

Merlin was pacing the dungeon when Lancelot and Gaius came to see him. Lancelot’s stomach turned at seeing his friend locked up like that.

“You were right, Merlin,” Gaius said. “Whatever Morgana did in the Dark Tower, she’s taken control over Gwen and used her to get to Arthur.”

“The Gwen we know could never accuse you of such a thing,” Lancelot said. “She knows it is impossible. That isn’t my Gwen.”

He pictured the way Gwen had looked at Merlin with suspicion – feigned suspicion, which was obvious to those who knew her best. It wasn’t _his_ Gwen looking like that.

“Can you save Arthur, Gaius?” Merlin asked, gripping the bars with a desperation Lancelot recognised all too well. He was beginning to feel it himself.

“The poison is too strong, too virulent,” Gaius replied sadly. A door opened somewhere near them, and Gaius lowered his voice. “Your magic is his only hope.”

Determination blazed in Merlin’s eyes. “You need to get me out of here somehow.”

“We will,” Lancelot said. “I swear it.”

*

When Merlin emerged from the dungeon, Lancelot seemed to be trying not to laugh, which indicated he’d heard every word Merlin said to the guards. At least Merlin had been able to shake the ageing spell after he dealt with them.

Merlin’s escape didn’t go undetected, but with a lot of effort, the two of them managed to get up the wall and through Arthur’s bedroom window without being noticed.

They were barely off the ledge when Lancelot pulled Merlin behind the curtains at the sound of the door opening. They heard people entering the room.

“Are you all right?” That was Gwaine, right on time.

“Yes,” Gwen replied.

“You haven’t seen anything? Heard anything?”

“Nothing, Gwaine, why?”

“Someone saw an intruder within our walls,” Gwaine said with his best Protective Knight voice.

“Here? In the Citadel?” Gwen asked, and Merlin hated how much she sounded like herself, like Gwen, when she was more like a stranger.

“Yes, my lady,” Gwaine replied. “We last saw them in the Main Square, then we lost sight of them.”

“My lady, you may be in danger,” Gaius said from his spot beside Arthur’s bed. “Gwaine will take you to the guest chambers. He’ll ensure no harm comes to you there.”

“Why would anyone wish me harm?” Gwen asked, so innocently Merlin nearly jumped out from behind the curtain and attacked. Lancelot’s hand on his shoulder and common sense kept him in place.

“You’re to be our leader, Gwen,” Gaius said. “You are Camelot’s future. Do you imagine our enemies don’t what you dead?”

“I can’t leave Arthur,” Gwen replied. “Not now.”

“Gwen, I promise, if there is any danger, I’ll fetch you at once.”

“Gaius is right,” Gwaine added. “Come, my lady. You are not safe here.”

_Finally_ Gwaine guided Gwen out of the room, and Gaius yanked the curtain aside. “How on earth did you get in here?” he asked.

“Don’t even ask,” Lancelot replied. Merlin was already rushing to the bed, and his heart dropped. Arthur was so pale.

“How is he?” He was terrified of the answer.

“His heart is nearly stopped,” Gaius said. “I fear he’s close to death.”

_Not if I have anything to say about it._ Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s chest. He could barely feel it beating. Merlin struggled to quell the panic surging within him. Arthur needed him focused, or they didn’t stand a chance.

“The sickness is so deep in him,” Merlin said, his voice trembling, forcing the truth out. “I don’t know if I have the power to bring him back.”

“You can do this, Merlin.” Lancelot didn’t have a trace of doubt in his voice. Merlin hoped he deserved that faith.

_What will I do if this doesn’t work?_

No. Merlin shook himself, straightened up and wiped the tears from his face. They kept spilling, out of his control. He took a deep breath, and put his hand back on Arthur’s chest.

“Ic the thurhaele thinu licsar mid thamsundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae!”

Merlin forced himself to back away, to give Gaius space to check on Arthur. The physician felt for Arthur’s pulse. It seemed to take longer than it usually did. Gaius glanced up at Merlin, and he looked like he was preparing to give bad news.

_No, no no._ Merlin barely felt the tears spilling freely down his cheeks. All he could see was Arthur’s pale, sweaty body lying unmoving on the bed. Merlin tried to picture a future where Arthur’s body never moved again. A future without Arthur’s eyes, his smile, his touch, his laughter, his teasing, his courage, his love…

It was impossible. Merlin tried to see that future and all he could see was black. Arthur was going to die and all there would be was black. Merlin could feel his world ending.

Then Arthur moved.

“Merlin…” Arthur mumbled, his face twisted in discomfort as his body rolled over, still unconscious, but _he was moving._

Arthur was alive and the future came rushing back.

The relief was so intense, Merlin would have fallen to the floor if there weren’t hands holding him up – Lancelot, he realised. Once he could feel his body again, Merlin jumped to Arthur’s bedside. Gaius stepped away to give him space as Merlin cupped Arthur’s face in his hands and leaned his forehead against Arthur’s.

He couldn’t even feel guilty that his tears were dripping down on Arthur’s face, but he kissed them away as he whispered against Arthur’s skin, _never do that to me again, please don’t, please don’t ever do that to me again._

“Merlin,” Gaius’s voice interrupted after a moment or an eternity, Merlin couldn’t tell. Merlin remembered time and reality and where they were and why. He forced himself to straighten, though his skin hurt once he wasn’t touching Arthur anymore.

Gaius embraced Merlin tightly. “Well done, Merlin! Well done.” He released the sorcerer. “You’d better get back to the cells before you’re missed.”

Merlin looked down at Arthur, then forced himself to focus. He turned to Lancelot, who was smiling with relief.

“There are guards on every floor and every stairwell,” Merlin said. “How can I get back down there?”

“Well, the same way you came up, obviously,” Gaius replied.

Merlin looked towards the window. “Obviously.”

Gaius practically shooed him in that direction as he returned to examine the king. Lancelot joined Merlin by the window.

“I will stay here,” he said, clasping his hand reassuringly on Merlin’s shoulder. “I will not leave his side until you return, Merlin, you have my word.”

Merlin nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

With one final glance at Arthur, Merlin put his faith in his friends and climbed out the window.

*****

Merlin didn’t think any night on earth had ever felt as long as this one. He lay on the bed of his cell, staring at the ceiling and willing Arthur to be alright. He didn’t even notice sleep and exhaustion overtaking him until the sound of his door opening woke him in the morning. He jumped to his feet to find Gwaine and Gaius standing there.

“Morning, Merlin,” Gaius said. He sounded happy.

“If you’ve got a moment,” Gwaine said with a grin, “the King would like a word.”

Merlin was already moving past them out the door.

*

Arthur wasn’t really reading the paper in front of him, so much as staring at it. He was waiting more than anything else, for the sound of –

There was a knock on the open door, and Arthur looked up to see his own living miracle entering the room.

“Merlin!” Arthur barely had time to stand up from his chair before Merlin reached him and wrapped his arms around Arthur, kissing his neck, his cheeks, his lips, everywhere he could reach, hands moving gently and carefully over Arthur as if ensuring that he was indeed alive. Arthur didn’t move, he allowed Merlin to feel his fill because Arthur knew exactly the fear Merlin must have felt, because he had experienced it before. It was the worst feeling he knew, and he was happy to see Merlin shed it.

“How are you feeling?” Merlin finally asked when he could speak. He leaned back enough to look Arthur in the eye, but he couldn’t stop touching him. Arthur leaned into every touch of his hands.

“Like death,” Arthur said, but he smiled. “Well, death warmed up, at least. Thanks to you.”

“I can imagine,” Merlin said, but there was no smile on his face. Instead his eyes were full of remembered pain and unshed tears. “Arthur, I thought you were dead. For one moment, I was certain of it. I’ve never felt pain like that, not from anything I’ve gone through. It was like the world ended.”

“Shh, love,” Arthur said, placing a hand on Merlin’s cheek. “I’m alive. You saved me, like you always do. I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand?”

Merlin nodded, and they embraced tightly for a long, blissful moment, both clinging to the feeling of the other’s breath on their necks, reminding each other that they were here.

“Seems we’ve both been through something of an ordeal,” Arthur said eventually. He led Merlin to the table where they sat down, hands still holding on to each other.

“It wasn’t so bad, really,” Merlin said. “Once you get used to the eternal night and the rats, and the mouldy pillows, living in a bucket of your own–”

“Merlin,” Arthur cut him off. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you. Truly. The moment I woke up, I ordered your release. I told them you couldn’t have been the one who poisoned me. Luckily the cook confirmed your alibi, as well.” Arthur smirked. “I also told them you simply weren’t bright enough to organise an assassination attempt. You know, to make it sound legitimate.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Merlin laughed, and he kissed Arthur’s hand.

“You’re welcome,” Arthur murmured.

The sound of a throat clearing made them both turn. Lancelot came in, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, sounding quite genuine. “There is something we all need to discuss.”

*

Merlin and Lancelot told Arthur everything that had happened. They could both tell Arthur’s reluctance to believe them, but even he couldn’t justify Gwen’s accusation of Merlin. And if Lancelot could admit that the love of his life was working for Morgana, who was Arthur to accuse him of lying.

“She planned this,” Arthur said once they finished. “Right now, they’re waiting for me in the council chambers.” Arthur leaned back in his chair. “Gwen presented us with new evidence. She is trying to maintain her look of innocence.”

“We cannot let her know for certain what we know about her,” Lancelot said. “Who knows what she will do? Or Morgana?”

Merlin nodded. “We need to buy time until I can figure out how to return her to herself.”

“So what are you suggesting, exactly?” Arthur asked.

“For now,” Lancelot said, pain thick in his voice. “We have to play along.”

Merlin put a hand on Lancelot’s shoulder. “She is not the Gwen you love right now. She has fallen prey to a dark and powerful magic, but your Gwen is still in there somewhere.”

“If I lose her,” Lancelot whispered, “I lose everything.”

“We’ll find a way to bring her back, Lancelot.” Merlin looked at Arthur, whose determination mirrored his own. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	7. S5E8: The Hollow Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 8, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Hollow Queen.
> 
> Merlin has run off to be the hero just as Arthur is about to face an intensely complicated diplomatic visit, aka. the one where Arthur worries *a lot*.

Merlin and Lancelot were talking about their day when Gwen entered hers and Lancelot’s chambers, walked right up to Lancelot and wrapped her arm around his neck before kissing him deeply. Merlin had a moment of panic before Lancelot managed to slip his arms around her waist and play along.

“I missed you today,” Gwen said once she pulled away.

“You, too,” Lancelot said with a smile few would suspect of being forced.

“It’s getting late,” Merlin said, jumping from his perch on the table. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

He didn’t like to leave Lancelot alone with her, but he couldn’t think of an excuse to linger for the snogging session. He was nearly at the door when Gwen’s voice stopped him, sugary sweet with false innocence.

“Oh, Merlin? Before you go, I’d love a hot bath.”

She was feeling confident tonight, wasn’t she? She knew Merlin would happily arrange a bath for Gwen when she was herself – but, of course, the real Gwen would never ask. Merlin turned with a friendly smile that hurt and a small bow.

“Certainly, my lady.”

Lancelot gave him an apologetic look over Gwen’s shoulder. Merlin shrugged and rushed from the room.

*

Lancelot had stopped by Gaius’s chambers that morning looking for Merlin, so he could apologise for the night before, but now found himself leaning against the wall as he tried to stay out of the way. Merlin was rushing around gathering supplies while Gaius tried to talk him out of his plan to help a sick child in the woods.

“You don’t even know who this boy is,” Gaius argued.

“He’s a druid,” Merlin replied.

“He broke into the castle like a thief,” Gaius said. He had a point.

“How else was he going to reach me?”

“The journey to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, Merlin, it’s a den of murderers, cutthroats!”

“It _is_ dangerous,” Lancelot had to agree. Merlin shot him a look that said _not helping_.

“It’s a long way north of dangerous,” Gaius said.

“What am I supposed to do?” Merlin snapped. “Let this girl die?”

"The journey there and back is going to take you the best part of the day. How do you expect Arthur will feel about this?”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, once Lancelot explains the situation.”

Lancelot straightened. “Me?!”

Merlin stopped his rushing to look at him. “Sarrum of Amata is arriving today,” he said solemnly. “Arthur has enough on his mind without worrying about me. I trust you can convince him this is something I need to do.”

Lancelot sighed. He wasn’t going to talk Merlin out of helping a sick child. He nodded. Merlin clasped his shoulder gratefully.

“Merlin,” Gaius warned.

“I promised the boy, and I can’t go back on it now.” Merlin nodded to them both. “I’ll be back by nightfall.”

He left the room, and Lancelot and Gaius exchanged concerned looks. They could only hope that Merlin knew what he was doing.

*

Lancelot found Arthur in his bed chamber, looking more stressed than usual.

“Merlin?” he asked when the door opened.

“It’s Lancelot,” he replied. Arthur paused in his rushing to get ready and looked at him in surprise.

“What are you doing here so early?”

“I have a message from Merlin.” Lancelot swallowed once and explained to Arthur where Merlin had gone. “He said he’ll be back by nightfall.”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “Today of all days,” he muttered. “Well, I should know better than to expect Merlin to turn down a plea for help. He has his own obligations. I, on the other hand, need to prepare for the Sarrum’s arrival.”

“You don’t sound enthusiastic,” Lancelot commented.

Arthur huffed. “Can you blame me?”

“Sarrum does have a… reputation.” Everything Lancelot had heard about the man made him more afraid to meet him.

“Even my father feared him,” Arthur said. “They say he takes joy in impaling men.”

“From the stories I’ve been told, not just men,” Lancelot said. “Women and children, too. And they say he has a fondness for assassinating his friends.”

Arthur chuckled. “I doubt we’ll ever be that close. But we share one thing; a desire for Morgana to be stopped.”

“Is it true that he once had her under lock and key?” Lancelot asked. There had been many rumours to that fact.

“I’m hoping he’ll tell us more about that.”

“Are you certain it’s wise to seek an alliance, Arthur? Given Sarrum’s reputation?”

Arthur considered. “If we’re to achieve peace in the five kingdoms, we’ve got little choice. I don’t agree with his regime, but it’s a means to an end, the only way of achieving our aims.”

Lancelot nodded, and couldn’t fight a smile. “You’re becoming a statesman, Arthur. Do you realise that?”

“For the love of everything, don’t ever say that in front of Merlin,” Arthur grinned. “He would never let me hear the end of it.” The King’s blue eyes turned from amusement to concern. “Nightfall, you said?”

“He’s going to be fine, my lord,” Lancelot assured him. “Merlin can take care of himself. If anything, he was worried about leaving you alone with Sarrum.” He smiled. “With the way you two worry about each other, it’s a wonder you ever leave the other’s sight.”

“As if you and Gwen are any better…” Arthur trailed off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t–”

“It’s alright, I know what you meant,” Lancelot said quickly, but he was already remembering the painful falseness in Gwen’s eyes as he kissed her the night before.

“We _will_ get her back, Lancelot,” Arthur said. “I swear we will. As soon as the Sarrum is out of our court, we are going to find a way.”

“I know,” Lancelot said sadly. “I know.”

*

Arthur stood with his knights in the courtyard and watched as Sarrum’s party arrived. Arthur tried to ignore the pit of nerves in his stomach, but he found it more difficult than usual. He wished Merlin were there, to reassure him with a glance, to make him smile with a stupid joke. There was nothing to smile about now as a tall, muscular man with a grim expression and battle-scarred skin marched up to Arthur.

“We are most grateful to the Sarrum for accepting our invitation,” Arthur said with the forced royal tone he hated using. “And gracing our palace with his presence. We welcome him and his warriors with friendship.”

The words made him feel dirty, but he didn’t let it show. The intimidating man considered Arthur carefully.

“The last time I met you,” he said, “you were ten years old. Uther held a tournament in your honour.”

“I fight my own tournaments now.” Arthur hoped he didn’t sound as angry as he felt. He had to be respectful, no matter how much he detested it.

The Sarrum smiled, but it looked more like a threat. “Well, we shall enjoy putting you to the test!”

*

Arthur could barely focus on getting dressed for the banquet, and startled when the door to his chambers opened – but it was Lancelot, not Merlin.

“He isn’t back yet, is he?” Arthur asked. “Didn’t you say he would return by nightfall?”

Unnecessarily, Arthur looked towards the window and the darkness looming outside of it. It was bad enough that a man like the Sarrum was a guest in his home, but now Merlin was late. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

“That’s what he said,” Lancelot replied. He didn’t sound like he liked it, either, as he followed Arthur’s gaze towards the window.

Arthur sighed. “I know Merlin can handle himself,” he said. “But if he isn’t back by the time the banquet ends, I’m determined to start worrying.”

Lancelot nodded. “As am I.”

Alright, then. At least they were in agreement.

*

At the banquet, Arthur pretended not to notice that he sat directly between two people who were, to varying degrees, his enemies. On one side, Gwen, who was keeping up her own appearances but would likely report everything he said back to Morgana, and on the other side, the Sarrum, who was digging into his meal with all the dignity of someone too feared to worry about table manners. And Arthur had to be _pleasant_ to him. He needed his support if it ever came down to an honest war with Morgana.

“We have a great deal in common, Lord Sarrum,” Arthur said, remembering all the lessons his father ever taught him about putting on a façade when it was necessary. “We share many allies. Also an enemy.”

Sarrum put down his goblet of wine. “Morgana.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “There is a rumour that you held Morgana prisoner. Is it true?”

“She’s nothing to be feared,” Sarrum said mockingly. “I kept her like an animal.”

_She isn’t an animal_ , Arthur thought, but kept his expression cool. “How did you capture her? She’s… a powerful sorceress, a high priestess.”

The Sarrum leaned closer to Arthur, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He was enjoying himself now. “I found her weakness. Everyone has one, even a high priestess. A young dragon. Her love for that creature caused her to suffer more than she ever imagined possible. But not more than she deserved. I knew she wouldn’t dare use magic against me, not while her beloved creature was at risk of harm.”

Arthur stared, fighting hard to contain his disgust, and his shock. This was the answer to Merlin’s mystery; Sarrum was the one responsible for Aithusa’s deformities.

“Such a shame,” Sarrum continued. “All that beauty, abandoned, forgotten in a living grave.”

Arthur swallowed and tried to keep his voice neutral. “You’re a harsh judge, Lord Sarrum.”

“I was not merciless enough,” Sarrum hissed. “Morgana escaped. A lapse on my part, but I will not be so foolish again. Not that her time with me was entirely wasted. As the dragon grew, the pit became too small. Gradually the creature was crippled and twisted. At night you could hear its cries. They were even more heartbreaking than Morgana’s.”

He didn’t sound heartbroken at all. Arthur wasn’t sure if he managed to hide his repulsion. He had seen Merlin’s joy when he returned after summoning Aithusa from her egg. There had been a pure, innocent gleam placed there by the white dragon. Learning this would break Merlin’s heart. It broke Arthur’s. Not even _Morgana_ could deserve quite so cruel a fate, could she? Then they would be no better than her.

The sound of Gwen’s chair scraping the floor drew his attention. She stood. “I hope the Sarrum will forgive me if I retire for the night.”

The Sarrum nodded absentmindedly, and Arthur watched as Gwen left the room, her own rage barely hidden. For a moment, that gave Arthur hope that their Gwen might be fighting for control, but then of course someone whose mind had been invaded by Morgana would grieve the harm inflicted on her in the past.

Arthur met Lancelot’s eyes across the banquet hall. His also lingered on Gwen, until she was out the door, then he turned to Arthur. They looked at each other in a moment of shared grief before returning to their respective conversations.

*

Arthur felt dirty and vaguely ill by the time he retired for the night. Before he could go clean the presence of Sarrum off of himself, though, he found Lancelot in the hallway. The second he saw him, the knight shook his head solemnly. Merlin wasn’t back.

“I’m going after him,” Arthur announced.”

“No, sire,” Lancelot protested. “It’s too dangerous. You cannot risk insulting the Sarrum. _I_ will search for Merlin. Will you be alright on your own with Gwen?”

Arthur considered both of these statements, and finally nodded. “I will. And I will see no harm comes to her.” He held out his hand, and Lancelot took it. “I trust you to do the same for Merlin.”

They shook hands and nodded at one another, and then hurried their separate ways.

*

Thank the heavens Merlin was never very good at covering his tracks without magic, and that didn’t seem to have occurred to him for this particular journey. Lancelot could easily make out his friend’s trail through the woods – but it didn’t stop his worrying. He was a full day behind. Wherever Merlin was, he hoped he wouldn’t be too late to be of use.

When he found the clearing where the tracks seemed to turn back, Lancelot wasn’t that concerned, but he did pick up his pace. When he came upon a crew of bandits just starting to wake up from where they lay scattered on their backs, a chill ran down his spine. Merlin would never have attacked so many people so blatantly unless it was for something very important and urgent.

Lancelot hurried towards the palace as fast as he could possibly go.

*

Lancelot rounded the corner of the hallway only to find Merlin on the floor, crying over the body of a boy. He couldn’t be sure who the boy was or exactly what had happened, but Lancelot walked over to his friend and kneeled at his side.

“Merlin.”

The sorcerer only nodded to acknowledge his presence, but didn’t speak, so Lancelot just stayed there with him, not saying anything else, until the guards arrived.

*

They lay on the bed, Arthur with one arm around Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin with an arm over Arthur’s stomach as they leaned on each other.

“I still can’t believe how lucky we were,” Arthur said softly. “I owe that boy my life. We need to make sure to give him a decent burial.”

“I’ll do that,” Merlin said. “It would mean a lot to him, to know he has your gratitude.”

“He saved your life,” Arthur replied. “I will be grateful to him for as long as I live.”

Merlin looked up at Arthur and their lips found each other for a tender kiss. Arthur pulled Merlin more tightly up against himself.

“Oh, and Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Next time you want to go running off with a mysterious stranger, please take a knight with you. Preferably me, but any will do if I’m unavailable.”

Merlin could help a small smile. “Yes, sire.”

*

Lancelot and Merlin stood by Daegal’s fresh grave in the woods. Merlin placed a plant by it, lingering on his knees.

“His life had only begun,” he said sadly.

Lancelot said nothing – there was nothing that could be said. He just stood silently beside his friend and helped grieve the stranger who had given his life for the king. The boy who had stopped Morgana… and _Gwen_ from killing him.

Lancelot sighed. “It can’t go on, Merlin.”

His friend stood and looked at him. “Gwen?”

“We have to do something about her.” He needed her back. He couldn’t leave her like this, this cold, merciless thing that was so far away from Gwen and who she was.

“I know,” Merlin said. “I’ve been looking into it, but…” Merlin’s resolved eyes locked on Lancelot. “It’s time to put an end to this. I will not rest until I find a solution Lancelot.”

Looking at the determination in the sorcerer’s expression, Lancelot knew he meant it, and he knew he had never loved his friend more.

*

_So close,_ Morgana thought, her fists clenched at her sides. They had come so close to killing Arthur and for the throne to be hers, for it to finally be over. She was so tired of being defeated, betrayed, out-witted by Arthur and his pathetic knights, men with so little in their own lives that they were willing to die for _him_.

Morgana just wanted this all to be done with already.

For one brief moment, a question travelled across her mind like a cloud on a stormy day. When this was all finished, once Arthur was dead and she sat on the throne… Would she miss him? Would she miss Arthur, the man who had been her brother long before either of them knew of their shared blood?

“Don’t be stupid,” Morgana hissed out loud to herself. “He is a self-righteous king just like Uther. You want him dead and there is nothing about him to miss once he’s gone.”

Nothing whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
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> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	8. S5E9: With All My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 9, series 5 of BBC Merlin - With All My Heart.
> 
> Merlin is determined to bring Gwen back, for Lancelot and for their family. In the process he realises there is a long overdue secret he needs to share - no matter how much they may hate him for it.

Merlin looked up from what felt like the thousandth book he’d read in a manner of days. He had planted himself in Gaius’s chambers, where he usually managed to stay more focused on his work. The old physician was currently mixing a tincture in the other corner of the room.

“Why did I promise to find a way to help Gwen?” Merlin moaned. “I have no idea what to do. Is there really no remedy?”

Gaius gave him a sympathetic look. “If Gwen has suffered what I suspect, then no, I fear not.”

“You know what happened to her?”

“I can’t be certain, but the more spells you rule out, the more I fear I may be right. When I was young, I heard about an ancient ritual of the Old Religion called the Teine Diaga. The sacred fire.”

Merlin perked up in his seat, shaking the cobwebs in his brain so as not to miss a word Gaius was saying.

“The ritual used the mandrake root to bring unimaginable terror to the victim,” Gaius explained. “Their screams could be heard twenty leagues away. When it was finally over, their will was no longer their own. They were slaves of the high priestesses for eternity.”

Merlin fought down the cold lump in his chest. “Who preformed this ritual? Where?”

Gaius shook his head sadly. “I’ve told you all I know. Such mysteries were revealed only to a handful of female initiates. As a boy, I was privy only to rumours.”

“There must be someone who can help,” Merlin argued.

“I can only think of two people who truly know the Old Ways,” Gaius said, and he had that tone that said he would really prefer not to have to tell Merlin this. “One is Morgana Pendragon… The other is the Dochraid. But she cannot be trusted. She must never know your true identity.”

The warning was hardly necessary, as Merlin had already made up his mind. He rummaged through Gaius’s shelves until he found the bottles he needed, and went straight for the door. He paused, and looked over his shoulder.

“Gaius, eh… Probably best not to tell Arthur about this until I come back. I’ll take Gwaine.”

He left before Gaius could argue, or comment on his choice of bodyguard.

*****

“Will you stop making that noise?” Merlin asked. He had only just drunk the ageing potion a moment ago and already his back was aching, and it didn’t help that Gwaine was very clearly trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Gwaine said. “You’re right, mocking my elders isn’t right. Besides, the beard really suits you.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Just stay out here in case I need you,” he instructed, taking some comfort in the knowledge that waiting and doing nothing would make Gwaine miserable. Merlin made sure the sword was secured and hidden inside his robes, and walked into the cave before he could second-guess himself.

The Dorocha looked like she had emerged from the very stones around her, and her voice sounded like it, too. “Who dares enter the sacred cave?”

Merlin lowered his head in respect. “I come to petition the Dochraid.”

“Give me your hand.”

Merlin approached carefully and held his hand out.

She sniffed it and shoved it away from herself in disgust. “I smell the stench of enmity.”

“I come in peace,” Merlin insisted. “In friendship.”

“You are no friend of the Old Religion,” the Dochraid said spitefully. “No friend of Morgana Pendragon.”

“Great Dochraid–” he tried, but she cut him off.

“Silence! I know you, Emrys. Your Queen will find no relief here.”

Merlin fought a shudder. “How do you know why I come?”

“I am the Dochraid. The Earth speaks to me. You are not welcome here. Depart!”

It was almost insulting that she thought it would be that easy. “Oh, I cannot do that. Not until I have what I came for.”

“You dare challenge me, the ancient Dochraid?” she shouted. “You? A puny sorcerer?”

Merlin was counting on being underestimated. “And yet I will have what I came for.”

“I am a creature of the Earth. You cannot kill me.”

He was hoping she would say that. Merlin took out Excalibur from behind his back and held it out towards the Dochraid. He tried not to be smug when she recoiled in fear. “This sword was forged in a dragon’s breath and it will do my bidding.”

Finally, there was doubt in her voice. “You do not have the power to wield such a weapon.”

In reply, Merlin sliced the sword through the air and cut the Dochraid’s arm. She cried out and covered the wound. For the first time, she looked genuinely afraid.

“I wish you no further harm, Dochraid,” Merlin said calmly. “Tell me what I need to know.” 

“Your Queen is doomed, Emrys,” the Dochraid hissed. “Her spirit has been consumed by the Teine Diaga. Bound by the silver wheel for all eternity. Her body is nothing but an empty vessel filled by the will of another.”

“Morgana.”

“Yes, and once she has served her purpose, the body too will be cast away.”

“How do I break this spell?”

“Only the greatest of sorcerers can attempt such a thing!”

Merlin aimed the tip of Excalibur directly at the Dochraid. She recoiled from it in fear.

“How?” he asked menacingly.

The Dochraid eyed the sword. “You must travel to the Cauldron of Arianrhod. There, you will need all of your powers, for you must summon the White Goddess herself.”

Summon a Goddess. Of course. Why not. 

Merlin brought the sword closer to the Dochraid. “And that is all?”

“No, Emrys,” she replied as she recoiled. “The Queen must enter the Cauldron. Its waters hold the Goddess’ power. Only their touch can heal her. Remember, Emrys, the Queen must enter the water willingly. If she is tricked, forced or beguiled, she will fall into the abyss and be lost forever.”

It could never just be simple, could it?

Merlin lowered Excalibur and forced respect into his voice. “Thank you, Great Dochraid. Thank you.”

When he turned to leave, he could feel it – a ripple in the magic that filled these caves as the Dochraid threw a dagger at his back. He spun around in time to repel it with his own magic, and he liked to think that up until now, his intention had been to walk away without causing any more trouble. But now?

Merlin crossed the distance between them and drove Excalibur into the Dochraid’s stomach. She cried in pain and doubled over on the cave floor, wailing in agony. Merlin stood over her, wondering just for a moment if he should go one step further.

 _No_ , he told himself. _She isn’t worth that. Go save Gwen._

Merlin backed away this time, not making the mistake of trusting her a second time, and left the Great Dochraid wailing in her own blood.

When he rejoined Gwaine outside the cave, the knight was ready with his own sword as if he were moments away from charging in after him. Gwaine looked over Merlin, possibly checking for any gushing wounds.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Better than her, anyway,” Merlin replied.

Gwaine stared at him for a moment, then put his sword away, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Every time I think you can’t surprise me anymore, Merlin.”

“You’d just get bored,” Merlin said. “Come on. I have to figure out how to summon a Goddess.”

*

There more he considered it, the more impossible it seemed.

Gaius and Merlin stood in the royal chambers, discussing what Merlin had learned. Arthur and Lancelot were in the room, but they were mainly listening. For once, the knights were not the ones in charge.

“There are too many things to go wrong,” Merlin said to Gaius. “Summoning the White Goddess? That may be beyond me.”

“I think not, Merlin,” Gaius disagreed. “The only one who ever doubts in your power is you.”

“And even if I do manage that,” Merlin continued, “we need to get Gwen to the Cauldron in the first place! She’s hardly likely to go willingly.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” Gaius said. He pulled a potion bottle out of his picket and held it out to Merlin.

“Tincture of Belladona?” Merlin asked.

Gaius smiled. “All that studying has already paid off.”

“It’s a powerful and dangerous drug, Gaius.”

“More dangerous than a traitor in the heart of Camelot?” Gaius did have a point there.”

“Besides,” Merlin said, “Gwen needs to be conscious when she enters the Cauldron. She must do so of her own free will or the spell will not be broken.”

“That, I agree, may not be within our powers,” Gaius nodded. “But there is someone for whom it is possible.”

Merlin perked up. “Lancelot?”

Gaius nodded, and Lancelot stood up at the mention of his name. “What can I do?” he asked.

“Only you can reach the part of Gwen that remains true,” Gaius said. Lancelot considered those words. He looked as scared as they all felt, but he nodded.

“This tincture of Belladona,” Arthur asked. “What are its effects?”

Gaius explained how the tincture would work, and none of them were particularly happy with the risks involved, but they all knew there was no other choice, and so they agreed.

“Summoning this Goddess,” Arthur asked, “it will require strong magic?”

Gaius nodded. “It is a ritual that can only be performed by the most powerful sorcerer. It is the only way, Sire. Sorcery has to be fought with sorcery.”

“Will Merlin be putting himself at risk?” Arthur asked Gaius.

“You know, I am standing right here,” Merlin pointed out.

“Gwen would not want Merlin to risk his life,” Lancelot said.

“Still standing right here!” Merlin practically shouted.

“Trust me when I tell you that Merlin is far more powerful than he gives himself credit for,” Gaius said. “If anyone can do this, it is him. The magic is strong, and may leave him weakened for some time, but I don’t believe he would be in any serious danger.”

“Which is irrelevant anyway,” Merlin said, tired of being talked over, “since I intend to do this, risk or no risk. This is _Gwen_. Now, what are we waiting for?”

*****

Lancelot looked down the cliff in horror. Neither Merlin or Arthur were moving, and Arthur looked like his arm was wedged beneath a rock. Lancelot looked at Gwen, lying unconscious on the ground beside him. He couldn’t leave her alone in case she woke up, and he couldn’t leave his friends down there.

Just as Lancelot thought he had to make an impossible choice, movement caught his eye. He looked back at the path they had travelled and saw a figure coming towards him in the distance. Lancelot tensed, ready to defend himself and Gwen, until the figure came closer. He recognised that figure, and despite the severity of the situation, he smiled with relief.

*****

“It does not seem possible,” Mordred said, looking at Gwen asleep on the ground beside their campfire. “The Queen has the sweetest of natures.”

“It was never her,” Lancelot said. He sat beside Gwen, stroking the hair away from her face. “Just Morgana.” He looked at Mordred. “Thank you for following us.”

“Thank Merlin and Gaius for acting so strangely,” Mordred said.

Arthur laughed. “So entirely like themselves?” He smirked at Merlin, but his smile faded into deep thought. “You had a funny feeling.” He sounded almost… awed. Merlin smiled at him and Arthur shook himself, turning back to Mordred. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to have you with us. Isn’t that right, Merlin?”

Arthur fixed Merlin with a pointed look. Merlin couldn’t blame him for wanting to be certain that Merlin didn’t still hold any ill towards Mordred. He wouldn’t want Merlin to start acting all paranoid. Merlin smiled at Mordred.

“Of course,” he said, and Mordred nodded gratefully. Merlin looked at Gwen. “It’s time.”

“Right,” Lancelot said, taking the belladonna out of his pouch.

“Two drops only,” Merlin instructed automatically. Lancelot did as instructed. Arthur stood and joined Lancelot, the two of them talking in low voices, leaving Merlin and Mordred alone by the fire.

“Do you really trust me to be here, Merlin?” Mordred asked.

“I do,” Merlin replied without hesitation. “I told you I had faith in you, Mordred. You’re a fine knight with a good heart.”

“But the vision… I would understand if you did not trust me completely,” Mordred said. “I know you have the King’s best interest at heart. I do too. I hope to prove my loyalty to both you and the King. I want to be as certain of myself as you seem to be.”

Merlin smiled at the young knight. “I could wish for nothing more than you to see that my faith in you is well deserved, Mordred.”

Mordred smiled shyly and looked into the fire, and when he did that, he looked as young as he really was. A young, decent, strong man, and Merlin knew his faith would be rewarded.

*

“How much further? Arthur asked.

“Not far,” Merlin said. “This gorge leads to the Cauldron.”

As soon as he said it, he was barely even surprised when he heard a loud, familiar shriek in the sky above them. Everyone looked up, and there was Aithusa, flying towards them and breathing fire in their direction. Merlin wanted to stop, to talk to her, but they needed to get Gwen to safety.

“Here!” Arthur shouted, and they all followed him behind a large boulder, but not before Merlin caught a glimpse of Morgana in the distance, walking towards them.

“You go, I’ll handle it,” Merlin instructed.

“No,” Arthur said automatically.

“You must!”

“You’re the only one who can bring Gwen back to herself,” Lancelot argued.

“It’s too dangerous,” Arthur agreed.

“Arthur!” Merlin just managed to shout as Aithusa swept above the boulder and fire danced over them. Merlin only just got a protective shield of magic over them all in time.

Mordred looked at Arthur. “Get the Queen to safety, Sire. We’ll cover you and join you beyond the gorge.”

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a long look, and finally nodded to each other. Arthur locked eyes with Merlin. “Very well. But _please_ be careful.”

Merlin nodded, and with a last regretful look, Arthur and Lancelot moved, carrying Gwen safely away from them.

“You stay here,” Merlin instructed. “I’ll divert the dragon.”

“Merlin, you can’t!”

“I’m the only one who can. I know what I’m doing, Mordred,” Merlin assured the young knight, and he ran out into the open before he could argue.

Aithusa came sweeping through the air towards him. In the dragon tongue, Merlin ordered her to stop her attack and to leave them be. He desperately wanted to say more, wanted to beg her forgiveness and urge her away from Morgana, but there was no time. She obeyed his instructions and flew away.

“Come on,” Merlin said when he returned to Mordred. “We need to move before Morgana catches up!”

“I can delay her,” Mordred said. “Go on ahead.”

“I’m not leaving you, Mordred,” Merlin argued.

“ _Trust me_ ,” he pleaded. “I can buy you time.”

Merlin considered as he looked into Mordred’s determined dark eyes. He had made the choice to have faith in the boy. He couldn’t back out now.

“Alright,” Merlin agreed. “Good luck.”

Merlin gave Mordred a nod, and he took off running after the others. Once he caught up with them, Arthur’s relief was evident but temporary. “Where’s Mordred?” he asked.

“We saw Morgana,” Merlin explained.

“We can’t leave him behind!”

“We’re not,” Merlin assured him. “We are trusting Mordred to stop Morgana and make it back to us safely. He is giving us a chance. We cannot throw it away. Have faith, Arthur. He can handle her.”

And as he said the words, Merlin knew he was right. His faith in Mordred was not misplaced.

*

Mordred woke to the feeling of gentle fingers stroking his cheek. He blinked and found Morgana kneeling beside where he lay on the ground, looking at him fondly.

“Why don’t you kill me?” Mordred asked. He hadn’t expected to wake up at all.

Sadness marred her green eyes. “My argument’s not with you, Mordred. How could it be? We’re of a kind.”

Mordred managed to get to his feet and he backed away from Morgana. “Never,” he said, even though it hurt. He had loved and admired her when he was a child, and the memory of that still hurt.

Morgana looked down at his clothes. “You wear the uniform well, but we both know what lies beneath. Do you think Arthur would tolerate you for one minute if he knew the truth? One of his knights, a sorcerer.”

Arthur _did_ know, Mordred wanted to tell her, and it changed nothing. But something made him hesitate. First, the was the chance that Morgana wouldn’t believe him, and slipped into one of her blind rages. Second, if she did believe him, that the King knew full well that he was a sorcerer, what would she do? Finally admit to herself that Arthur and Uther were not the same?

Or would she realise that if Arthur knew of Mordred’s magic, he might know of Emrys, as well? That would put the King in even more danger from her. There were two things Morgana wanted more than anything; Arthur’s throne, and Emrys dead.

“One day, we will be accepted,” Mordred said, choosing his words with care, because he did not know which course was the better one.

“Your naïveté would be charming if it wasn’t so dangerous,” Morgana replied with pity in her eyes. “Where is Emrys?”

“Emrys?” Mordred asked innocently.

“You pretend you do not know of whom I speak?” Morgana asked.

“It is a name I’ve only heard,” Mordred lied easily.

“He’s not here? With you?” Morgana sounded more concerned than she tried to appear.

“If he was,” Mordred said, “would we both not feel the presence of such a great sorcerer?”

This made Morgana show some of the fear and uncertainty she tried to hide, which in turn calmed Mordred. Morgana had no idea who Emrys truly was, or that she wouldn’t recognise his power if it was right next to her. Merlin knew better than to let his magic serve as a beacon leading right to him

Morgana’s fear quickly gave way to anger. “Then I have no further use for you,” she said and raised her hand towards him, yet Mordred still wasn’t truly afraid.

“You would strike one of your own?” he asked, and Morgana hesitated. He could see it in her eyes that she still cared for him, despite his betrayal. She didn’t want to hurt him. She lowered her hand.

“I am not strong enough to defeat you, Morgana,” Mordred said. “But know this. Such hatred as yours can never triumph. I hope that one day you will find the love and compassion which used to fill your heart. Perhaps one day I get to once again see the woman who saved my life and showed me kindness and care when I was little. I miss her.”

Morgana stared at him, and there were tears in her eyes. He could tell his words had an impact. Yet he couldn’t risk letting her stop Merlin and the others.

Mordred took advantage of her distraction and sent a wave of magic through the air that threw Morgana backwards hard enough for her to be rendered unconscious. He slowly lowered his hand and looked at her still body, which didn’t look evil without her memories to fill her eyes with hatred.

He really did miss who she used to be.

*

The Cauldron of Arianrhod spread before them, a vast lake between the mountaintops. “It’s as Gaius described,” Merlin said. “We’re here.”

Merlin dropped their supplies to the ground and watched as Lancelot lowered Gwen gently to the ground.

“We haven’t got much time,” Arthur said. “Gwen could wake up any moment.”

Lancelot sat on the ground beside Gwen, wiping the hair from her face with the most gentle touch. “Not long now, my love,” he said softly.

At the sound of heavy footsteps, they all turned and saw Mordred running towards them. Merlin grinned – he knew he could do it.

“Mordred!” Arthur clasped arms with the young knight. “I thought we’d lost you!”

Merlin clasped Mordred on the back, and Lancelot nodded towards them before his focus returned entirely to Gwen.

“So did I, for a moment,” Mordred admitted.

“How did you escape?” Arthur asked.

“Do we really have time for that now?” Mordred nodded towards Gwen.

“No, we do not,” Merlin confirmed. “Let’s get to work.”

*

Lancelot carried Gwen to the edge of the pool of water, and placed her gently down on the ground. Merlin stood beside him.

“When I wake Gwen from her sleep,” Merlin instructed, “she must walk into the Cauldron of Arianrhod of her own free will. Only then will the spell be broken. But I’m afraid all the magic that binds her will fight against it.”

“Then how can we succeed?” Lancelot asked. Even in his desperation to get Gwen back, he couldn’t help but be impressed by his friend. There was no trace of a servant in Merlin now, no hiding his own power. He radiated authority.

“You have to reach her,” Merlin said. “Reach that part of her that remained untouched by the evil of Morgana.”

“Is there such a part?” Lancelot was afraid to hope.

“You must believe there is.” Merlin looked into Lancelot’s eyes, and Lancelot nearly took a step back automatically. He felt like he should be lowering his head in respect and had to remind himself that this was still just his best friend.

“Prepare,” Merlin said. “When she wakes, you will only have a few moments.”

Lancelot watched, tense and ready, as Merlin knelt down beside Gwen’s body and held his hand over her. “Gielde ic thec thissa meowlessawole, gyden aeblaece.”

Merlin’s voice was deep and steady, and the air around him seemed to crackle with energy. His eyes flashed that strange gold. When he started to stand, he swayed on his legs, and Arthur was there in an instant to help Merlin to his feet. The two of them took a step back, and Lancelot knelt by Gwen just as she began to stir.

Her eyes opened, and Lancelot held his breath.

“Where am I?” she scrambled to her feet and looked around at the people present. She focused on Lancelot. “What have you done to me?”

“You’ve been asleep for a long time,” Lancelot said carefully, approaching her with his hands held up as if in surrender. The disdain Morgana had filled her with was clear and unhidden in her expression now, and it tore at his soul to see her like that.

“Get away from me!” Gwen shouted. She started to run, but Arthur caught her and held her arms tightly. She struggled, but Lancelot walked right up to her anyway, close enough to put a hand gently on her shoulder. She tried to pull away but Arthur didn’t let her budge.

“Gwen,” he whispered. “My Guinevere.”

She barked a laugh. “ _Your_ Guinevere? You stupid, self-righteous man. I was never yours and never will be.”

“You must reach her, Lancelot,” Merlin instructed. “Or all is lost.”

Lancelot cupped Gwen’s face in his hands. “You loved me once.”

“You are as easily fooled as the King, Lancelot,” Gwen sneered. “You thinking I love you, he thinking we were friends.”

“I still do,” Arthur said in her ear, still holding her firmly.

“It was a trick, nothing more. A subterfuge to pass Camelot to its rightful Queen.”

“I will never believe that,” Lancelot said. “I have too much faith in us for that.”

“Believe what you like! The fact remains.”

Gwen continued to struggle against Arthur’s hold. Lancelot nodded at the king and stepped in when Arthur backed away. Gwen was now trapped in Lancelot’s arm, struggling violently as he moved them towards the water. Lancelot felt disgusted; never in his worst nightmares had he imagined holding Gwen against her will.

“Lancelot!” Merlin shouted. “You mustn’t force her in! It has to be her choice.”

Lancelot stopped near the pool and pulled Gwen tighter against him. They were face to face, close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“Look at me,” Lancelot said. “Tell me you do not love me.”

“Let me go!” Gwen shouted back. Lancelot held her tighter.

“Gwen, do you remember when I returned from the dead? When our eyes locked after Merlin’s spell and you knew that I was truly back? Do you remember what you said to me in the woods that day when I asked you to stay by my side forevermore?” He leaned his forehead against hers. “You said _with all my heart_. Those were your words, and I could feel their purity and truth.”

At some point while he spoke, Gwen had stopped struggling so violently. She looked at him, looked into his eyes, confused and uncertain.

“With all my heart,” Lancelot whispered as he stepped slowly backwards, towards the lake. “With all my heart.”

Gwen’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched Lancelot step into the lake. “With all my heart…”

Her whispered words lit the fire of hope in Lancelot’s chest. He held out his hand towards her. “Come,” he begged, and to his utter joy, Gwen took his hand and followed him into the water.

*

“Yfel gaest, ga thu fram thisselichaman. Bith hire mod eft freo. Ar ond heofonutungol sceal thurhswithan.”

The words carried from Merlin into the air, and Arthur watched as his eyes flashed that beautiful gold, and the lake around Gwen was surrounded by blinding white light. As the light started to dissipate, Merlin sagged against Arthur from exhaustion. Arthur wrapped his arms around his sorcerer to help him stand, and together they watched the lake where Gwen turned to Lancelot with the radiant, joyous smile that she only had for him.

Gwen extended her hand, and as fast as the water allowed him to move, Lancelot was there and embracing her. Arthur hardly knew he was smiling until his cheeks felt sore. He heard Mordred exhale with relief behind them.

Arthur looked at Merlin, who was gazing at Lancelot and Gwen with tears glittering in his eyes. “You did it, my love,” Arthur whispered in his ear. Merlin looked up at him, and while he looked drained and impossibly tired, his smile was even brighter than the light of the Goddess.

*

Merlin sat on a large rock near the cauldron of Arianrhod. He knew Lancelot and Gwen were standing together looking happy, so he was happy to keep his head in his hands as he tried to stop the spinning. He was staring through his fingers into the sand, when a water skin appeared between him and the ground.

“You all right?” Arthur asked, and he held the water skin there until Merlin took it, slowly sitting up so he could drink. He emptied it in a few gulps and wiped his mouth.

“Just exhausted,” he assured Arthur. “My head is spinning, but it will pass.” He handed Arthur back the empty skin and smiled. “Don’t worry.”

“You’ll be back to normal soon enough,” Arthur said. He took Merlin’s hand and kissed it, smiling. “I am so proud of you, Merlin. You got Gwen back to us, just like you promised.”

Merlin glanced towards Lancelot and Gwen, kissing by the water. He wanted to only feel happiness and relief, but there were other, darker feelings that overshadowed them.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, noticing the change in him. “What’s wrong?”

Merlin kept his eyes on Lancelot and Gwen for a moment longer, his heart filling with dread and guilt even as he watched their joy. He had to tell them the truth.

He looked up at Arthur. “It’s nothing that cannot wait until we get home.”

Arthur watched Merlin for a long moment, clearly concerned, but finally he nodded, and went to fill up the water skin again. Merlin could already feel his dizziness fading. As soon as Arthur was out of earshot, Mordred approached.

“Are you really considering telling them what you told me?” the young knight asked. “That day when you told me of the vision where I kill Arthur. You told me what you did back then… Will you really tell them?”

Merlin smiled tiredly at him. “How did you know?”

“This is a happy moment,” Mordred said, “and you look ready to impale yourself on a sword. Are you certain that telling them is wise? Who knows how they could react.”

Merlin considered his words. He knew Mordred was simply concerned, but part of Merlin wanted to agree with him. It was a big secret he had kept to himself, and he couldn’t blame them if none of them ever spoke with him again.

And yet…

“They are my family,” Merlin said. “Even if they despise me for it, they deserve to know what I have done.”

*

“There is a prophecy,” Merlin said, his eyes flickering between Arthur, Lancelot and Gwen. They sat on one side of the table and watched Merlin with confusion. “A prophecy Morgana fears more than anything, that says the sorcerer Emrys will be her destiny, and her doom.”

“You’ve told us this before, Merlin,” Gwen said gently.

“I know, I know,” Merlin said. “But there is something you do not know, something I figured out a long while ago but didn’t want to admit. Not to myself, and not to any of you.” He locked his eyes on Arthur. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We promised never to keep anything from each other again. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell us what, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“That I’m responsible.” Merlin swallowed, fighting against the way his voice was already shaking. “For… everything. Every horrible thing Morgana has done, every tragedy she has wrought. I am responsible for it all.”

“What are you talking about, Merlin?” Lancelot asked. Of course Lancelot couldn’t fathom the idea of Merlin doing something wrong. Merlin loved him for that, and he hated to disappoint him.

“The prophecy,” Merlin said. “It’s true. I _was_ Morgana’s doom. I inadvertently fulfilled the prophecy years ago. I made a choice that ensured Morgana followed the path to darkness.”

Merlin told them everything he had tried so hard not to think about for years. How he had doomed Morgana because he made a mistake, because he was scared and desperate and made a choice he couldn’t unmake. He told them about the spell he so carefully infused into Morgana’s pillow to make her forget that Merlin had magic. To make her forget that she wasn’t alone with her fears in Camelot.

“It was time you knew,” Merlin said, his voice low and tired and full of the shame that boiled in his blood. “You deserved to know. Everything Morgana has done can be traced back to the moment I stole her memory, and now you are all paying the price.” Merlin drew a ragged breath. “Morgana’s path to evil is my fault, and I am so sorry. I never meant…”

He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t say another word, his greatest shame lay bare before the people he loved the most, and he didn’t have anything else to offer them.

It seemed his family couldn’t think of anything to say, either. They all sat still, processing his words with looks of shock and disbelief that broke Merlin’s heart, but he knew that he deserved it.

Merlin paused by the door and looked back at Arthur, Lancelot and Gwen. None of them were looking at him, and he understood why. Still, he wished he could wipe the sadness from Arthur’s eyes.

“I love you all,” he told them. “And I will give you time. If, in the end, you cannot forgive me…” Merlin swallowed, put pushed forward, resolute in his decision. “I’ll understand.”

*

Morgana’s screams of rage were loud enough to make the walls around her tremble. She fell to her knees, she hit the floor with her fists but it didn’t do a thing to alleviate her fury… or her pain. Morgana was angry about losing her most useful pawn in Camelot, but that was not the only reason for her suffering.

She had lost Gwen. Again. How many times was Arthur going to take her best friend away from her? How many times would she be forced to watch Gwen choose _them_ over her?

Mordred had made it clear where his loyalties were, and now Gwen was herself again. Morgana wasn’t certain how much more loss she could take.

The familiar sound of Aithusa’s limping steps made Morgana look up. The dragon stood before her, nudging a white snout against Morgana’s arm in comfort. Morgana softened and put her hand on Aithusa’s neck.

“At least I’ll always have you, my darling,” she said. “We are both too broken to leave each other, are we not?”

Morgana leaned against her beloved dragon and breathed in her warmth. No matter how the rest of the world turned against her, this dragon had chosen _her_. Aithusa had found Morgana at her lowest moment and showed her kindness.

“We will get what we deserve in the end,” Morgana promised. “Everything we have worked for, all our sacrifices… One day, it will all be worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	9. S5E10: The Kindness of Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 10, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Kindness of Strangers.
> 
> As things are tense with his family, Merlin is approached by a woman with a warning.

Merlin hadn’t spoken with Arthur directly in several days, though he had still been performing all of his duties. Meaning Arthur had been given many chances to speak to Merlin if he chose to, and had taken none of them. He was still processing everything. When they were alone and Merlin worked, they were completely silent, though Merlin had caught Arthur staring at him with sad eyes often enough.

Now, though, after what they had just learned, Merlin couldn't help but ask a question.

“Why would Morgana attack Helva?” he asked, and saw Arthur visibly tense at Merlin’s broken silence. “That’s one of the few places where magic is practiced freely. Why would she attack her own? It makes no sense.”

Arthur hesitated, and for a moment Merlin thought perhaps he would be ignored. He should have known better.

“She must have her reasons,” was all Arthur said, but at least he had spoken.

*

The discovery that Morgana had attacked Helva to find Alator left Merlin with a bad taste in his mouth. Alator was loyal and strong; he would resist Morgana or die trying, he had no doubt. That was part of the problem; Merlin didn’t like the idea of people dying to protect him, no matter how willingly.

He wondered if Arthur felt like this every time he led his knights into battle. He wished he could talk to Arthur about it, but…he knew he wasn’t ready. Neither of them were ready, if he was being honest. If Arthur decided he couldn’t forgive Merlin for what he’d done all those years ago… Merlin couldn’t face that possibility yet.

Still, the desire to discuss this with someone other than Gaius led Merlin, quite without his intent, to Gwen and Lancelot’s chambers. He walked in the open door without even thinking, and didn’t realise his mistake until Lancelot looked up from the table he was setting, and jumped at seeing Merlin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Merlin said, because he couldn’t just back away without speaking. “I–what are you doing?”

The table was set with very humble dishes, nothing like what the kitchen usually prepared.

“I, eh, I was going to surprise Gwen with homemade lunch,” Lancelot said, sounding a bit embarrassed. “I made it myself.” ¨

Merlin couldn’t help but smile. “What a lovely thought.”

An awkward silence fell over them. “What are you doing here?” Lancelot finally asked.

_Right…_ Merlin didn’t really want to admit that he missed his friend so much that his feet had taken him here without asking his head.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Sorry, I’ll just be going.” He turned to flee the room.

“Stop, wait,” Lancelot said, and it sounded like he hadn’t really meant to do that, either, but the words were out and Merlin had stopped.

“Yes?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

Lancelot looked at him with sadness. “I know this is hard. For all of us. One mistake doesn’t cancel out everything else, we just…”

“Need more time,” Merlin finished for him. “I know. Thanks.”

Merlin rushed from the room, and kept walking quickly until he was out of the palace and found himself a nice meadow to mope in. He felt like he deserved a good mope.

That was where the woman found him. “If you value your king, meet me tonight at the old temple of Earu,” she told him.

Well, it wasn’t like Merlin to turn down a cryptic message and a mysterious invitation.

*

Gwaine stayed a few steps behind Merlin, as requested, but his hand was ready to pull his sword at the first hint of trouble. When they entered the old temple ruins, though, the only person there was the older woman Merlin had told him to expect.

“Great one!” the woman said as she saw Merlin, her eyes full of admiration. Gwaine fought the urge to laugh at the greeting – he’d seen Merlin struggle putting his boots on just a few minutes earlier. The woman approached, but froze in her tracks when she noticed Gwaine’s presence. Merlin held his hands up, speaking calmly.

“Don’t worry, my friend is only here as a witness in case you murder me.” Merlin laughed genuinely, and the woman smiled at his attempted humour.

“I am Finna. It is an honour to meet you, Emrys.” The woman began to bow, and Gwaine could see the redness creep up Merlin’s ears even in the dark.

“Please, that’s not necessary,” Merlin said quickly. “How did you know my name?”

“From my master, Alator of the Catha,” Finna said. Gwaine vaguely recognised the name. “He sends you greetings, but also a warning. The great battle nears, the fate of Camelot rests in the balance. Only you, Emrys, can ensure the great triumph of the Once and Future King.”

Gwaine tensed, hand automatically gripping his sword. He didn’t know much about the magical world, only the bits and pieces he had asked Merlin about, but one thing Gwaine knew, and didn’t like, was that the magical world had a tendency to burden Merlin with various prophecies like _this_. He could already see Merlin tense.

“How do I do that?” Merlin asked, but Finna didn’t get a chance to reply before they heard an all too familiar sound approaching.

Knights.

Damn, so much for Merlin’s guarantee that they wouldn’t be detected.

“Quickly!” the woman started towards the forest, and Gwaine only wasted one moment considering if he should join the other knights or rush Merlin after the woman. The desire to avoid a thousand questions he didn’t want to answer, made the choice easier.

“Go!” Gwaine urged. The three of them ran through the forest until they found a hiding space.

“Go,” Merlin said to Finna when they could catch their breaths.

“I cannot leave you!” she protested.

“I’ll find you, you have my word,” Merlin said. “Go!”

Finna hesitated, but something in Merlin’s eyes must have assured her of his sincerity, because she took off running. Gwaine started leading Merlin back towards the palace, out of the way where the knights were searching – after Merlin used his magical fire to buy the old woman a head start.

Once the two men made it back to the palace and could slow to a walk, Gwaine put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

“You do realise I cannot let you go after her alone, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Merlin replied with a simile.

“You should tell Arthur,” Gwaine added, and Merlin’s smile vanished.

“Arthur and the others… They’re not quite ready to talk to me yet.” Merlin seemed to struggle say the words out loud. “I need to give them more time, some space. So, what do you say Gwaine?” Merlin forced the smile back on his face. “An adventure, just the two of us, for old time’s sake?”

That was unfair, Gwaine thought, because now he had to grin like an excited fool. “Just want the doctor ordered! But for the record, I think your plan of not telling Arthur or Lancelot is absurd, and I will be saying I told you so when that blows up in your face.”

He gave Merlin’s shoulder a hard pat and walked off with a laugh.

*

It was moments like this that Gwaine was reminded of exactly how strong his best friend was. A bleeding wound wasn’t enough to stop Merlin – it merely slowed him down a little. They had made it into the old tower and up the stairs, the woman named Finna and Gwaine doing their best to help Merlin without making it worse.

As they made it up the stairs into a stuffy room, Finna helped Merlin as Gwaine bolted the door. There were sounds of dogs barking in the distance. Morgana’s men were getting close.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Merlin asked Finna. Gwaine didn’t like how strained his voice was becoming.

“Without you, Emrys, Arthur cannot build the new world we all long for,” she replied with that reverence she had whenever she spoke to Merlin.

“I don’t understand,” Merlin grunted as he winced in pain.

“For hundreds of years, the Catha have guarded their ancient knowledge,” Finna said. “But now the time has come to pass it on to you, Emrys. For only you can carry their hopes into the great battle itself.”

Merlin seemed to struggle to stay focused on her face. “How can I do that?”

Gwaine watched Finna remove a small wooden box from her pocket and pass it into Merlin’s trembling hand.

“Guard it carefully,” she said. “It will help you in the dark days to come.”

Gwaine had a thousand questions, and he imagined Merlin had too, but instead of asking them, Merlin simply told her, “Thank you.”

Crashing sounds came from the stairs outside the room. “They’re coming,” Gwaine said. He rushed to take Merlin’s arm and helped him up the stairs on the other side of the room, to the tallest room in the tower.

“You must go on,” Finna instructed when they made it there.

“There’s nowhere else to go,” Gwaine pointed out.

“There is a roof. You will be safe there.”

“How?” Merlin asked.

“They think I am alone,” Finna said. “Once they have me, they will go.”

Merlin fought against Gwaine’s grip on his arm. “I won’t leave you, Finna. We’ll fight them together.”

“If Morgana sees us together, she will know who you are. That must never happen.” Finna looked at Gwaine, and he nodded in understanding. He understood her willingness to die for her cause, to protect Merlin, and he would not let her do it in vain.

“Finna, please…” Merlin tried to argue, but his voice faltered.

“It is my destiny, Emrys, to serve you until the end,” Finna said. She sounded calmer than Gwaine would have expected. “I could wish for nothing more. But please, grant me one favour.”

“Anything,” Gwaine told her.

“Leave me your sword.”

Gwaine took Merlin’s sword from him – he was barely clinging to it – and passed it to Finna. She nodded her thanks, and gave Merlin a fond look.

“It has been a privilege to know you, Emrys,” Finna said.

Both Merlin and Gwaine looked at her, Merlin with grief and Gwaine with respect. Then, as the sounds from the stairs grew louder, he led Merlin up the final steps to the roof.

Gwaine panted as he shut the door behind them. Merlin collapsed onto the roof, and both of them kept perfectly quiet for what felt like ages until they heard the sound of hooves riding away from the old tower. Gwaine moved to Merlin’s side.

“You’re not looking your best, Merlin,” he said. “I don’t know if I can get you back to Gaius fast enough on my own.”

“No time,” Merlin whispered, and coughed painfully. “Just… don’t fight him, ok?”

Gwaine was about to ask what the hell he was talking about, when Merlin spoke again in a language Gwaine didn’t understand, but recognised. A chill ran down his spine, and he couldn’t tell if he was terrified or excited.

This was Merlin’s plan?

Gwaine waited with bated breath until the sound of flapping wings filled the night air, and tried to swallow his fear as the massive dragon hovered above the roof. With one clawed foot, the dragon scooped Merlin up. Gwaine reminded himself to have some serious words with Merlin about this later, and then he forced himself to grab hold of the dragon’s other leg.

The beast rose into the sky, and Gwaine thought he really much preferred horses.

*

Merlin woke up, blinking against the daylight. His hand went right to his side, but here was nothing there but a memory of his wound. Merlin spotted Gwaine asleep on the ground beside him, sword clutched in his hand, which was easily explained by the presence of Kilgharrah standing in the clearing, watching Merlin patiently.

“Thank you,” Merlin said by way of greeting.

“It is my pleasure,” the dragon replied.

Merlin hesitated. “For a second, I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I would never forsake you, young warlock,” Kilgharrah said kindly.

Merlin swallowed. “Like you did Aithusa?”

The words escaped him before he could stop them, but once they were out, Merlin realised exactly how angry he was with Kilgharrah. They hadn’t spoken for a very long time, and there was much to be said.

The dragon’s eyes hardened. “I did not forsake the white dragon,” he said. “We are solitary creatures. Once she was grown enough to fend for herself, there was no reason for her to stay near me.”

“Do you not know what’s happened to her?” Merlin asked. “Have you even seen her? One can barely recognise her as a dragon! Her eyes hold nothing but fear and pain. She cannot even speak. Do you really take no responsibility for what has become of the only other member of your species?”

At some point, his voice had risen to shouting, and Merlin heard Gwaine get to his feet behind him, but did not look away from Kilgharrah. Gwaine did not speak or interfere.

Kilgharrah’s wings bristled and his nostrils flared. “Aithusa chose to stand with the witch, Morgana! When Morgana’s magic flared wildly with rage and fear, Aithusa went to her and healed her. She dishonoured our species when she chose to stay on the path beside Morgana. Anything that came from that choice, she brought on herself.”

Merlin stared at Kilgharrah, because for a moment he didn’t have words. The dragon really did see things in black and white, didn’t he? He led his existence according to prophecies that were possibly older than he was, and he took them as absolutes. Kilgharrah’s utter belief in destiny had guided so many of Merlin’s choices when he first came to Camelot, when he was terrified living under Uther’s nose and desperate for _someone_ to tell him what to do.

But that conviction in destiny, Merlin didn’t share anymore. He couldn’t, not when he knew that the only reason he made the choices he had with Morgana had been _because_ he knew what the ancient prophecies said about her.

“I can see that you do not approve of my reasoning,” the dragon said. “There was a time, young warlock, where you sought my council and heeded it.”

“I’ve learned a lot since then,” Merlin said. “I have learned that I have more faith in people and choices than I do in your prophecies. I will not make the same mistakes, and I would not have dismissed Aithusa for her desire to help someone in need, even if it was Morgana. Just like I won’t dismiss Mordred for what your prophecies say about him.”

“Trusting the young sorcerer is a mistake,” Kilgharrah warned.

Merlin sighed, knowing he would never convince the dragon otherwise, and not really wanting to. He could see why Kilgharrah’s reasons for turning away from Aithusa made sense to _him_ , but Merlin couldn’t forgive that any more than Kilgharrah could forgive Merlin’s acceptance of Mordred.

Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah to say as much, but caught sight of something. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Your wing.”

The great dragon lowered his head. “I am tired, Emrys, that is all. Though we may not agree, I shall serve you as long as I have the strength.”

“If you are ill, I can try to heal you,” Merlin offered. 

“There are some things even a warlock as great as you cannot overcome. I am old, Emrys. My time has almost come.”

“No.” As angry as Merlin often was with Kilgharrah, he could not quite imagine this world without him.

“It is the cycle of life,” the dragon said. “No more, no less.”

It didn’t matter how much they disagreed; Merlin had considered the old creature a mentor at one point, and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel now. “What will I do once you’ve gone?”

“You will remember me,” Kilgharrah said. “For the times I helped you and the times I let you down. They are both equally important.”

“Will I see you again?” Merlin asked.

The dragon looked at him, almost fondly, and took off into the sky without another word. Once he was gone, Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to Gwaine.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Merlin nodded. “The dragon healed my wound.”

“Not what I meant,” Gwaine smiled sheepishly, and Merlin chuckled sadly.

“I will be fine. We need to get back to Camelot.” Merlin felt the weight in his pocket of what Finna had given him. “There will be much to discuss.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll leave that conversation to you,” Gwaine said. “I will be trying to get some sleep. For some reason, sleeping under the watchful gaze of a giant, flying lizard wasn’t quite as relaxing as you’d think.”

*

Merlin stood exactly where he had not too long ago, when he confessed his greatest crime to his family. He looked at their faces again now, Arthur, Gwen and Lancelot, with Gaius standing beside him, and told them everything that had happened in the forest with Finna. He watched Arthur pale when Merlin confessed how close he had come to death.

“I know you are all still deciding how you feel,” Merlin said once he finished, “after what I told you. But this is important, and whatever is in this box, you all deserve to know it.”

They remained silent, but everyone nodded in acknowledgement. Arthur’s eyes hadn’t left Merlin in a long while, and Merlin’s kept going to Arthur, as well. Gaius took the box from Finna, and opened it. He removed a sealed parchment, unrolling it delicately.

“What does it say?” Arthur asked.

“Just a moment,” Gaius replied, as he read over the Catha writing. They all waited tensely. Gaius glanced quickly at Merlin before he began to read. “Let loose the hounds of war. Let the dread fire of the last priestess rain down from angry skies. For brother will slaughter brother. For friend will murder friend. As the great horn sounds a cold dawn at Camlann. The prophets do not lie. There Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain.”

*

The silence in the room seemed to get louder as Gaius’s voice faded. While the words etched fear into Arthur, it was nothing compared to how he felt watching Merlin. The sorcerer sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of their bed. He looked so much older than he was.

“So many…” Merlin said lowly. “So many have suffered so that I may hear this.”

“Yes,” Gaius nodded solemnly. “I think I know what’s going through your mind, Merlin. That your destiny is too much for one man to bear. We may carry it with you, but ultimately, it is on your shoulders.”

Arthur ached as if he could see the weight of that destiny crushing Merlin beneath it. Merlin didn’t look up from his hands, folded in his lap, but he smiled tiredly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You always did know me too well, Gaius.”

The old physician stepped closer to Merlin. “Be assured of one thing,” he said. “There was never anyone more capable than you, Merlin. You will not fail.”

It was clear Merlin doubted Gaius’s words, even if Arthur did not. He knew Lance and Gwen didn’t doubt them, either. He glanced at them, their eyes also fixed on Merlin with sadness and worry. Arthur couldn’t take just watching anymore.

He stood and walked towards the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of Merlin. Arthur put his hands over Merlin’s, and the sorcerer looked at him in surprise.

“You’ve carried so much,” Arthur said, letting the love he felt seep into his voice for Merlin to hear. “All these prophecies, and the guilt over changing Morgana's memories…” Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin’s hands and stared into his blue eyes. “You are not alone in this. We stand with you. At least, I know I do.”

“As do I, my friend,” Lancelot said. “Always.”

“And I,” Gwen echoed. “No matter what mistakes you made when you were younger and frightened… You couldn’t have known where it would lead, Merlin.”

Her gentle tone made Merlin look at them in surprise. Had he truly been so prepared for them all to abandon him? The idea pierced Arthur’s heart.

“This changes nothing,” Arthur said firmly. “We are a family. We stand together.”

*

The next day, Merlin was assisting Gaius in his chambers when the alarm bells started to ring. Soon after, Gwaine, Percival and Mordred came rushing in, carrying another knight between them on a stretcher.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Gwaine said as the knights put the stretcher on the table. Gaius and Merlin looked down at the patient in horror.

“You did well. Where did this happen?” Gaius asked.

“We found him just inside the border,” Percival replied.

“Merlin, fetch me my glass, please.”

Merlin did as Gaius asked.

“Do you know what this is?” Percival asked.

“I fear so,” Gaius said, just as Arthur came into the room, breathing heavily from rushing. “The skin has grown across his face until he suffocated.”

Arthur’s eyes widened at the disfigured knight on the table. “Gaius?” he asked,

“The disfigurement is not as a result of disease or infection,” Gaius said morosely. “It’s the result of powerful magic. In the old days, it was a punishment known as raigaid; the ultimate warning from the high priestess to her enemies.”

Arthur glanced to Merlin, then back to Gaius. “Why was this knight chosen?” he asked. “What had he done?”

“He had done nothing, except be a knight of Camelot,” Gaius said. “It is a warning, sire. A warning to the whole kingdom.” He hesitated. “Morgana has declared war.”

Arthur and Merlin locked eyes. Whatever destiny had in mind for either of them…

It had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> This season is fully written and episode postings are based on their return from beta and last-minute editing, sorry if it's a little erratic, I just can't wait for all of it to be edited before I start sharing with you!!!


	10. S5E11: The Drawing of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of certain chosen scenes from episode 11, series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Drawing of the Dark.
> 
> When a person from Mordred's past appears, both he and Merlin have some difficult decisions to make. Decisions that will help determine the very future of Camelot.

The good humour of the hunting trip was quickly replaced with concern when the group came upon the raided camp. It didn’t require a lot of guesswork to name the perpetrators.

“Saxons,” Merlin observed. Mordred and Leon looked around the edges of the camp while Gwaine and Lancelot checked the overturned carriage. Arthur knelt and closed the eyes of a dead knight of Camelot.

“They were after the cargo,” he said and stood. “Weapons bound for Camelot.”

Merlin felt a chill, and not just from his cold. “Morgana.”

“This close to the city walls?” Gwaine asked.

“She’s taking greater risks these days.”

“Check for survivors,” Arthur ordered, though they all knew there would be none. After a moment, Mordred took off running through the trees, like he was chasing someone. Merlin instantly took off after him, followed by Arthur and the knights.

Merlin caught up with Mordred after he had already stopped, but Merlin caught sight of the human figure disappearing through the tree. Mordred watched and did nothing.

“What happened?” Arthur asked once he caught up.

“I thought I saw someone,” Mordred said shakily. “I was wrong. Probably a deer.”

Arthur and the others had no reason not to believe him, so they didn’t question it. But Mordred noticed Merlin staring at him and froze like a startled animal, his eyes instantly ashamed, but he said nothing and simply followed the other knights back.

Merlin had decided to trust Mordred. He really didn’t want to be proven wrong.

*

Merlin pulled Mordred aside the moment they were back at the palace, hoping to the gods that there was a good explanation for what he’d seen.

“I saw you let a Saxon go,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Mordred paled. “Merlin, she’s a druid. I knew her! She was wounded. What could I do? Let her be captured? She had an arrow in her leg. She cannot walk!”

This, Merlin hadn’t expected. He could see the genuine concern in Mordred’s eyes. Whoever this girl was, they must have been close. “She may be a druid, but if she was with the Saxons, she is dangerous,” Merlin said. “You’re taking a risk.”

“She wouldn’t harm me,” Mordred said. “And she won’t get near the palace. I can’t let her die, Merlin. She’s… someone… I can’t explain it.”

He didn’t have to – it was clear in Mordred’s eyes how important this girl had been to him. Perhaps even still was. “Where is she?” Merlin asked. “I can’t risk her coming for Arthur.”

“She just needs a few days, and she’ll be gone,” Mordred said urgently. “Please, you mustn’t tell anyone. I know you don’t like keeping secrets from the King, but according to the law, if she is caught, she will be killed. He won’t have a choice. Please, Merlin, I beg you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please. Promise me.”

Merlin considered the young knight before him. Mordred was right, Merlin hated to keep anything from Arthur, especially now. But if this girl was found, she would receive a death sentence for being with the Saxons, and he couldn’t be entirely certain if she deserved that. Not if Mordred could care about her so much.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve told you before that I trust you, Mordred. Your secret is safe with me. You have my word, as long as she hurts _no one_.”

Mordred’s entire body sagged with relief. “Thank you, Merlin. I swear, she won’t.”

“Good,” Merlin said. “Then let me get you something to treat her leg. The faster she leaves Camelot, the better for us all.”

*

As Mordred tended to Kara’s leg the way Merlin had instructed, he still couldn’t quite believe it was her sitting beside him. They were quietly as he worked. The silence felt familiar; they had always been comfortable sharing the quiet. But of course, the silence was inevitably broken.

“What are you going to do?” Kara asked carefully.

“I’m going to help you get better,” Mordred replied. _And then get you away from here before anyone can hurt you._

The silence was more tense this time, and Mordred knew what was coming. He wished they could just stay in the silence for a while longer.

“You’re a knight,” Kara finally said. They had both been waiting for it.

“That doesn’t matter,” Mordred tried.

“Of _Camelot_.” Her disgust was plain. “Why, Mordred?”¨

He focused on her leg. “Arthur is a good man.”

“I can’t believe you’d say that,” Kara said in shock.

“You don’t know him.”

Kara stared at him in disbelief. “He’s your friend?”

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “Yes.”

Her eyes hardened with anger and disappointment. “Does he know who you are? You’re a druid. You don’t belong in Camelot.”

Mordred couldn’t remember there being so much hatred in her before, but at least he had the truth to convince her. “Arthur does know who I am,” he said, and watched Kara’s face go slack with surprise. “He knows what I can do. His hands may be tied for now, but he is good. I believe in Arthur, and he is fighting to make Camelot a safer place for people like us. You’ll see. He will convince everyone that it's the right thing to do. One day, things will change.”

Mordred put his hand on Kara’s cheek. Her expression softened, and she copied his movement and rested her hand on his. He could see her now, the girl he knew so well. She was there, hiding under this new hard surface.

“You’re safe here,” he told her softly. “No one will harm you. I promise.”

*

Merlin was walking down a corridor when Mordred found him, all anger and panic in his eyes. “What happened?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Merlin said instantly. “I swear. We came upon her by accident.” He hesitated. “Mordred, she tried to kill Arthur.”

Mordred’s anger faltered in confusion. “She must have been trying to defend herself. She shouldn’t be punished for that!”

“She feigned innocence to draw him near and would have stabbed him if I hadn’t intervened!” Merlin snapped. “She _is_ dangerous.”

“She’s a druid!” Mordred was sounding desperate now. “You know what she has been through in her life, you know what that means.”

“I know that you are also a druid,” Merlin said, forcing his voice to be calmer than he felt. “And you do not murder people out of spite.”

Mordred looked like he had slapped him. “That’s not fair.”

“She tried to kill _Arthur,_ ” Merlin repeated. “You know I cannot help her now.”

“So you’re just going to let her die?”

Mordred’s voice had grown louder in the end, loud enough to attract attention. Leon and Gwaine rounded a corner and approached them.

“What’s going on?” Gwaine asked. Merlin and Mordred exchanged a look.

“What’s this about?” Leon asked.

“Nothing,” Mordred said quickly. He gave Merlin one last, pleading look, and rushed past Gwaine and Leon. They watched him go, and Gwaine eyed Merlin carefully.

“Merlin?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Merlin assured them, and turned in the opposite direction.

*

In the council chamber, Kara stood before Arthur with bound hands. The knights and a few curious nobles had gathered around the room to witness. Merlin spotted Mordred standing halfway behind a column, unable to look away from Kara.

Arthur walked slowly around Kara, as if he was too restless to conduct the interview sitting down. “You were part of a cohort of Saxons who attacked an arms shipment bound for Camelot?”

“Yes,” Kara replied instantly.

“And were you acting under the orders of Morgana Pendragon?”

“What I did, I did for myself, for my people and for our right to be free.”

“I have no quarrel with the Druids,” Arthur said. “I am trying to lift the magic ban, surely you know that. We've made no secret of it.”

Kara glared at him. “I have spent my life on the run because of my beliefs and seen those I have loved killed. Forgive me if I learned not to trust a Pendragon.”

Arthur hid it well, but Merlin could tell that blow hit him hard. “I’m not my father,” he said firmly.

“You've never killed those with magic?” Kara spat. Arthur stopped walking and held her gaze as she spoke. “It is not I, Arthur Pendragon, who needs to answer for my crimes. It is you. You and your father have brutally and mercilessly heaped misery on my kind. It is you who has turned a peaceful people to war. And it is you, and Camelot, that shall pay the price.”

Arthur looked into the crowd and found Merlin. Merlin hated hearing these words thrown at Arthur. He knew how hard he worked, every day, to convince the council and the people that lifting the magic ban was the best and safest course for Camelot. He spent hours using reason and goodness as a weapon against the fear that still ran deep in his opposition. He didn’t deserve this.

Arthur’s eyes turned back on Kara. “In your words, I hear the voice of Morgana. It is she and others like her who have abused the powers of magic. It is they who have brought the rift between our people.” Arthur stared her down looking every bit the king he was. “It is their _deeds_ that have terrorised Camelot and made people so afraid. They are why it is a struggle to lift the ban despite a king being behind it.” Arthur sighed deeply. “But you stand before the court, not because of an act of sorcery, but an act of murder. Your actions have brought about the deaths of many good men and threaten the lives of many more.”

Merlin looked at Mordred. His expression had turned stone cold as he stared at Kara. Merlin couldn’t begin to guess what thoughts were going through his mind.

“They were casualties of war,” Kara said to Arthur. “And I would do the same again, for I will not rest until you are dead and your kingdom is no more.”

“Yet you have friends here,” Arthur said. “Somehow you got treatment for your leg. From someone in Camelot. Who?”

Merlin held his breath.

“I treated myself,” Kara said defiantly.

“You’re lying,” Arthur said. “Whoever it was left a trail of footprints in the mud that resulted in your capture.”

Merlin glanced at Mordred and found Mordred looking back at him with regret as he realised what he had done.

“A stranger came across me and helped me,” Kara lied. “I have no idea who he was.”

Arthur considered all of this carefully. “You show no remorse for your actions. I have no choice but to declare you an enemy of Camelot. At dawn tomorrow, pursuant to the laws of this land, you will be taken from your cell… and hanged.”

Merlin wondered if Mordred could also hear how much Arthur wished he wasn’t in this situation, or if it was only obvious to Merlin.

“You can do as you wish,” Kara shouted as the guards started leading her away. “It will not stop Morgana’s uprising! Your doom is near. My only sadness is that I won’t be there to see it!”

As the guards escorted her from the room, Merlin once again looked to Mordred. He looked as though a rug had been pulled out from under him. Like he wasn’t certain of anything at all anymore.

*

Merlin was helping Arthur out of his chainmail that night when there was a knock on the door and Mordred entered the room. One look in his eyes and Merlin knew why he was here.

“Ah, Mordred,” Arthur greeted him. “What is it?”

Mordred hesitated for only a moment before he kneeled by Arthur's feet, who threw a quizzical look to Merlin.

“It was me,” Mordred said. “I was the one who took the herbs to the Druid girl. I… I’m asking, please, reconsider your sentence. She’s a good person at heart. She’s not to blame. Morgana is using her in her quest for power.”

Arthur stood silently and looked down at the knight. “You know this girl?”

“She is someone… Since I was a child…” Mordred struggled to find the right words. He finally looked up at Arthur with tears in his eyes. “She has always lived in my heart.”

Arthur motioned for Mordred to stand, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he said carefully. “You’re a knight of Camelot, it’s a bond we share. Yet this girl… She is a danger. Not just to me. She’s a sworn enemy of Camelot, ruthless to the cause, you heard that.”

“I will change that,” Mordred said desperately. “She’ll listen to me.”

“You cannot change what has already passed,” Arthur replied sadly. “She has killed. I cannot risk the lives of my citizens, Mordred, no matter who asks.”

Mordred drew a shuddering breath. “I beg you, Arthur.”

Merlin’s heart broke for the young knight, and he knew Arthur’s did too when he spoke. “She’s admitted her guilt. I have no option. I’m sorry.”

They both watched as defeat claimed Mordred like a heavy cloak. He bowed his head. “Sire,” he said respectfully, and walked to the door. He looked at Merlin one more time before he left. Merlin saw nothing but heartbreak in the young man’s eyes.

When they were alone, Merlin instantly embraced Arthur, letting him lean his tired head on his shoulders. “I know you didn’t want to do that,” Merlin murmured.

“The law must be applied,” Arthur said. “It is paramount.”

“I know that,” Merlin agreed, running his hand in soothing circles on Arthur’s back. “It still can’t have been easy for you to break his heart.”

“I’ve never seen him look so sad. But there’s nothing I can do. I just hope Mordred will understand that. That he’ll forgive me.”

Merlin released Arthur from his arms so he could look him in the eye. “Only time will tell,” he said. “But I understand your decision. I hope he will too.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips, and continued to remove his chainmail.

*

Merlin remained still and silent as Mordred came and apologised to Arthur for what he did, and for his request. He was sincere, appreciative… But something was definitely off. Once Mordred left the room, Merlin excused himself and ran after him.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked, stopping Mordred in the corridor. “You’re leaving, aren’t you? You’re going to take her with you.”

Mordred turned to look at him. “Please don’t get in my way,” he pleaded. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Mordred…”

“Kara is sentenced to die in the morning. What would you do?” Mordred asked.

“Mordred,” Merlin tried. He had promised himself to be honest with Mordred, and he wasn’t going to change that now. “I understand your desire to save her, and yes, perhaps you _could_ turn her from Morgana’s thinking eventually but… I’m worried about you. I fear this could be the event that starts you down the road towards the vision.” He paused. “I have faith in you, but love blinds. This girl is willing to die for Morgana’s cause. What if she is the one who succeeds in changing _your_ mind? I cannot bear the thought of that, not after everything.”

Mordred’s expression softened. “I understand,” he said. “I’m scared too. But I give you my word that just because I leave Camelot, I will not leave behind my loyalty to Arthur, or to you. I will make Kara see truth and reason, and she will not succeed in blinding me as Morgana has blinded her. I am sorry to cause you pain, Merlin, but tell me you wouldn’t do the same for the person you love.”

Merlin sighed. “Please, don’t be foolish.”

“You see, you cannot.” Mordred gave him a small, sad smile, and turned.

“Mordred,” Merlin said. “Please.”

The knight stopped. “You have never wavered in your faith in me. Do not do so now.”

With that, Mordred walked away.

*

Merlin didn’t tell anyone what Mordred planned to do, but it didn’t matter; their escape was discovered, and they were pursued. Kara killed a knight in the process. Once Arthur and the knights of the round table caught up with them in the forest, Kara wanted Mordred to kill them so they could get away.

Merlin and Mordred looked at each other, and for one terrified moment, Merlin thought he might do it. He watched the fight raging in Mordred’s eyes.

Then, Mordred proved Merlin right. He surrendered, even as the girl he had tried to help shouted at him for being a traitor.

*

Arthur and Merlin stood outside the cell and looked at Mordred on the other side of the bars. Merlin’s heart ached at the sight.

“What are you going to do to me?” Mordred asked Arthur. It wasn’t harsh or angry, the question was just…resigned.

“I wish I knew,” Arthur replied. His heart was aching, too.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Mordred said. “I know I have lost the privilege of being a Knight of Camelot. I thought… I thought Kara could be saved from Morgana’s poison, but she is too far gone. She killed when she could have chosen not to. I can’t forgive that, not now that my eyes are open. She… She isn’t the same girl I used to know.”

They were silent as Arthur considered those words. Merlin knew Arthur believed Mordred. He also knew it didn’t make things hurt less.

“I am sorry that I cannot spare her life,” Arthur finally said. “I do not wish to hurt you. As for helping her escape, I am truly at a loss for what to do.”

Mordred seemed to be considering something. “Perhaps, since I no longer deserve to be a knight, there is another way I can serve you.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “How so?”

Mordred glanced at Merlin and back to Arthur. “I would like to discuss it with Merlin first, if you don’t mind, sire.”

“Not at all,” Arthur agreed instantly.

“I’ll return after the trial,” Merlin promised. “We will talk. And… I am so sorry.”

With that, they left Mordred alone in his cell.

*

Once more, Kara stood before Arthur, witnessed by the knights and the council. Merlin stood beside Gwaine in the crowd and watched Arthur sit on his throne, looking sadly at Kara. To Merlin’s pride and joy, Arthur offered her a final chance to repent. He offered to spare her life if she showed regret for her actions and turned from Morgana’s cause. Merlin loved him more than ever in that moment. Yet Kara spat on his kindness.

“I cannot repent a crime I have not committed,” she said with a steely voice. “It is not a crime to fight for your freedom. It is not a crime to fight for the right to be who you are. You deserve everything that is coming to you, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur and Merlin shared a long, grieved look. There was nothing more to be said on the matter.

*

Once Kara was dead, Merlin returned to the dungeon alone and leaned against Mordred’s cell. The young man sat on the floor, staring into nothing. He looked shattered.

“I’m sorry, Mordred,” Merlin said.

“You don’t need to be afraid, Merlin,” Mordred replied. “I do not blame Arthur; my anger is not with him. It is with Morgana” He looked up through the bars. “She needs to be stopped, and yet I can understand how she came to find herself in such a dark place. I wish she had been given the chance to choose, like I was.”

Merlin swallowed against the crushing guilt. “I took that chance from her. I wish I could give it back.”

Mordred got to his feet, and wrapped his hands around the bars that separated them. He looked Merlin steadily in the eye. “What if there is a way that you could?” 

*

Arthur sat at his desk and watched Mordred stand with Merlin in his chambers. It was odd to see Mordred without his knight’s uniform. Wrong. But at least he was here, hands unbound as Merlin had pleaded for Mordred to get an audience with the King before a decision was made about his fate, and Arthur would always trust Merlin’s judgment.

And now, Merlin stood beside Mordred with a proud look on his face a Mordred spoke with determined confidence.

“I want to go to Morgana,” he said, which was not something Arthur had prepared for. “I want to talk to her, to try and reach some part of her old self that may still be inside her. I want to show her that she has a choice. She can step away from the darkness and stop this madness.”

Arthur hadn’t even noticed standing up, but he was leaning against his desk. “What you’ve suggested is insanity. We have no way of knowing if she will listen to you. She could kill you on sight!"

“If anyone has a chance of getting close enough to Morgana to speak, it’s Mordred,” Merlin said. “She cares for him, she always has.”

Arthur could hardly believe Merlin was on board with this plan, yet there was no trace of doubt in his eyes.

“And even if that were not the case,” Mordred added. “I am willing to take the risk, my lord. For Camelot, and for you.”

Merlin put his hand on Mordred’s shoulder and looked at him fondly. “I’m proud of you, Mordred. I am.”

Arthur watched the two sorcerers as they looked at each other. Merlin had taken a risk when he told Mordred about the prophecy, but he had chosen to trust him, and it seemed he was willing to trust him now more than ever. Not just trust him not to join Morgana’s side, but trust him enough to let him take this risk on his own.

“I can’t say I’m overly fond of this plan,” Arthur said. “Any aspect of it. But… You are brave, Mordred, and I believe your heart to be true. I know you would probably do this even if I didn’t permit it, now that you’ve set your mind to it.”

Both Merlin and Mordred smiled at this, because they knew it was true. Arthur didn’t like any of the worst case scenarios he imagined. Morgana killing Mordred on sight. Morgana convincing Mordred that Arthur was the cause of all evil. But if Merlin believed Mordred stood a chance, and Mordred was willing to risk it all for Camelot…

“I accept your offer,” Arthur said. He rounded his desk and shook Mordred’s hand.

“Thank you, sire,” said the young man, as though Arthur was doing him a favour.

“Thank _you_ , Mordred,” Merlin said. “I truly hope this plan of yours works.”

Arthur hoped so too – especially since he could see in Merlin’s eyes that there was something else to this plan they had chosen not to tell him yet, and Arthur suspected he wasn’t going to like it one bit when he found out. But, knowing Merlin, he wasn't going to reveal what it was until Mordred was already too far away for Arthur to do anything about it.

*****

Morgana sat on her throne – a throne that wasn’t the one she wanted, but it would do for now – and watched as two guards escorted her guest forward. One of them pushed Mordred to his knees before her.

“My old friend,” she greeted, and Mordred looked up to meet her eyes. “Last time we met, you tried to kill me.”

“I only tried to stop you from harming others,” Mordred replied calmly. “I am here now for a purpose, Morgana. I need to speak with you.”

She considered him. She still saw he sweet little boy he had been, and even as grown as he was, she still couldn’t shake her fondness for him. “Say your piece,” she told him.

“I am here because I hope that the woman I knew, the woman who cared for me and who believed in love and in kindness… I hope that she is still there, underneath all this hatred you have buried her in. I believe that if she is there, you can fight to get her back. All your power, and you use it to spread darkness. That darkness just caused the death of someone I cared for a great deal. I do not believe that you can ever be redeemed, Morgana. You have caused too much death and pain for that. But you can make a choice! You can surrender for your crimes, you can repent like Kara wouldn’t, you can accept your punishment with dignity and end all this misery.”

Morgana said nothing. She stared at the boy kneeling before her, and felt moved by the hope that swam in his eyes, even if it was pointless.

“But I am not naïve," Mordred continued. "These are just my wishes. There is one more thing I came to tell you." He paused. “Long you have feared the sorcerer called Emrys. That he is your destiny, and your doom.”

Morgana’s blood ran cold at the mere mention of the name. “What of it?”

“I have come to tell you that you don’t need to fear him. Emrys has admitted – I have heard it with my own ears – that the doom he’s meant to cause you, he already caused years ago, by setting you on this path to darkness.” Mordred met her gaze once more. “The prophecy has already come to pass.”

“I don’t believe you!” Morgana said loud enough for the windows to shiver.

“You will,” Mordred replied with confidence. “Emrys sent me here with his blessing, and with an invitation. He wishes to meet you on neutral ground, to talk without a fight.”

Morgana stood from her throne. “You know who Emrys is?”

“I do, my lady,” Mordred replied. “And he feels it is time for you to know, as well. His true name… is Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 Your comments mean the world to me so if you want to take the time to leave one, you are a HERO <3 But I love you even if you don't.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.
> 
> Okay. This is it. The next one is the big one. Will I let you all down? Will I make all your dreams come true? Honestly, I'm curious to find out for myself. 
> 
> Series finale of Roads We Could Have Walked, coming soooooooon <3


	11. S5E12/13: The Diamond of the Day Part One & Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-imagining of the final episodes of series 5 of BBC Merlin - The Diamond of the Day Part One & Two.
> 
> This is it. The final battle. The Ending. Are you ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe we got here. I started posting this fix-it in January, which means a little over six months of my life has been dedicated to this project, and it has been some of the most enjoyable and soul-soothing writing I have ever done, even when it was hard. I got to take this show that means so very much to me, and share with the world how I wish it could have been, how I think it should have been, what it had the potential to be. And you guys have been so supportive! Every single comment means the world to me, you have made me so happy, you've made me cry with joy at my writing and hard work being appreciated. I never thought I would take on a fanfic project of this size, but I have blood on my tooth now, and who knows what I'll dive into next? Well... I do have some ideas!
> 
> Thank you so so much to everyone who has read this. I would be so happy if you could let me know in the comments or on tumblr how you feel about my version of the series finale! I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty freaking proud of it, it is everything I wanted for the characters in the show.
> 
> Again, sincere thank you to everyone who's read this, and massive thanks to my beta reader, who has been a life saver <3 I love you, fellow Merlin fans!!!!!
> 
> Now... Enjoy!

Morgana paced back and forth before her throne, twisting her hands and muttering to herself as she considered everything Mordred had said.

He hadn’t known what would happen after he delivered Merlin’s message, but he hadn’t been prepared for the invisible cage that sprung up around him at a flick of Morgana’s hand, or for her to just leave him there to witness her as she considered, as she ordered all her guards from the room, as she spoke to herself just too low for him to hear her words.

He knew she was talking about Merlin, possibly recounting all the times he had been in exactly the right place at the right time to help foil her plans, and realising that none of it was dumb luck or blind devotion to the king.

As frightening as she looked, Mordred considered this a good thing; the more she considered, the more she was bound to realise that Mordred was telling the truth. Merlin’s greatness was so painfully obvious to anyone if they just thought about it for a moment.

So suddenly it made him flinch, Morgana stopped her pacing directly in front of his invisible cage, and her eyes bore into him. “Even if I believe you that Merlin is Emrys,” she said – which she clearly did – “do you expect me to believe that this isn’t a trap? Emrys just suddenly decides he wants to meet with me on neutral ground just to _talk_. That is what you’ll have me believe?”

Mordred tried to keep his words calm so he wouldn’t set her off. “He wants a chance to explain everything to you, before it’s too late. He wants you to know how the prophecy has already come to pass. I give you _my_ word, as well as his, that this isn’t an elaborate scheme to trap you. All he wants to do is talk.”

Morgana looked furious, but she didn’t move. She kept staring at him as she thought. Mordred knew, he _knew_ , that Morgana trusted his word. He knew that what he’d said to her had an impact, even if she couldn’t admit it at this very moment. He knew something else, but he wasn’t certain if saying it would help or hurt his cause. In the end, he chose to risk it.

“Morgana,” he said gently. “I think the reason you’re keeping me here, and alive, is because you are lonely, and I remind you what it was like to be loved instead of feared.”

She drew in an angry breath, but her eyes softened before she spun around, her back towards him as if to hide her vulnerability. He knew he was right.

“I admit, this offer intrigues me,” she said as if nothing else had passed. “I am curious to hear what Merlin has to say for himself…”

Morgana trailed off, and her back straightened, and even without seeing her face, Mordred knew she once again wore that menacing smile she had learned to wear so well. She moved to a chest that stood near her throne, and ran her hand fondly over it.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust this not to be a trap,” she said, and glanced back at Mordred. “So just in case, I think I shall bring a little backup.”

Confused, Mordred tried to get a better look at the chest. Morgana moved to give him a good view of the symbol etched into the wood. It took a moment longer before he recognised it.

“No!” Mordred threw himself against the invisible wall of his cage but was slammed backwards. He tried his magic, but it only got absorbed into the barrier that kept him in. “Morgana, you can’t!” he shouted, but Morgana picked up the chest and eyed him with that poisonous smile.

“It’s only a precaution,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “Be a dear and stay right here. I have a meeting with Emrys to attend.”

As Morgana carried the chest from the room, Mordred kept banging against the walls around him and shouting until his throat was hoarse, until he knew she wasn’t able to hear him anymore, and even then he kept hitting and hitting until he crumbled to the floor from exhaustion. Silent tears ran down his face and all he could see was that symbol on the chest.

She was going to destroy Emrys, and Mordred couldn’t even warn him.

*

After Merlin told Arthur about the invitation he had sent with Mordred, he’d made Arthur promise to spend some time not thinking about it. Merlin wanted them to enjoy themselves – that was the memory he wanted to take with him to meet Morgana.

So far, Arthur was keeping his promise quite well. Merlin still couldn’t believe the knights had succeeded in dragging them to the tavern, but he was glad they did. Arthur stood on the other side of the table from Merlin, shaking his cup of dice as the audience roared and cheered around them. It was the most fun Merlin could remember having since their last anniversary.

Arthur flipped his cup over on the table. “Three!” he announced, and removed the cup to reveal, indeed, three eyes. Arthur grinned as their audience cheered. “Feel free to retire at any time, love.”

“Likewise,” Merlin grinned.

“You know, there’s no disgrace for a servant to lose to his king.”

“Or a King to his servant,” Merlin fired back. The knights and other drinkers laughed, and Arthur shook his head with an amused smile. Merlin tossed a handful of coins on the table to raise the bet, and Arthur did a little double take when he noticed the amount.

“Oh, here we go,” he said when Merlin shook the cup and brought it to his mouth to blow on the dice for good luck. Arthur’s eyes widened with a mix of admiration and disbelief when he undoubtedly noticed the quick flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes before he upturned cup of dice on the table.

“Ten,” Merlin said, never taking his eyes off Arthur as he raised the cup to reveal ten. Arthur shook his head and Merlin’s cheekiness, but Merlin could tell he was trying not to laugh.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered as the crowd cheered.

Percival, standing between them as judge, was also trying very hard not to laugh and Merlin imagined he also noticed the ever-so-slight cheating, but neither of them were going to say anything about it in this crowd.

“Enjoy this moment, Merlin,” Arthur said with mock menace. “While it lasts.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he replied giddily, and watched while Arthur took his turn and lost.

“You put me off!” Arthur announced over the groans of their audience.

“What are you talking about?”

“You just coughed!”

Merlin pointed to his throat and made his voice sound hoarse. “I was clearing my throat.”

“Deliberately,” Arthur huffed, and Merlin was thrilled to see that he was starting to get genuinely annoyed now. How delightful!

“Ah, I knew you’d discover my secret in the end,” Merlin said. “There’s just no fooling you, my lord.”

Percival nearly choked on his own laughter, and Arthur looked for a moment like he would break and give in to it too, but instead his resolve hardened and Merlin was very excited to see that despite his obvious cheating, Arthur was still too stubborn to quit.

Oh, it was going to be a wonderful evening.

*

“You absolute cheat,” Arthur accused later when they were alone, lounging on top of their bed, both too lazy to get undressed yet. “Shameless is what you are.”

“That’ll teach you to enter a bet against a sorcerer,” Merlin laughed, and Arthur threw a grape at him from the plate between them. Of course Merlin just caught the thing in his mouth and chewed victoriously.

“Perhaps I should tell the council I changed my mind,” Arthur mused. “Sorcerers clearly are a menace to society.”

It was Merlin’s turn to flick a grape at him, which somehow bounced off Arthur’s forehead and landed back over by Merlin’s elbow. They both stared at it for a moment before they broke out in hysterical laughter.

Later, when there had been much kissing and the grapes were gone – eaten or on the floor somewhere as further casualties of war – they were finally comfortably warm beneath the covers, huddled close together. Arthur had his arms around Merlin, listening to his breathing in the silence of their room, when the wall he had kept up all day finally cracked.

“Merlin?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I can pretend anymore,” Arthur confessed. Merlin instantly sat up to look Arthur in the eye, Merlin’s hand resting on Arthur’s chest right above his heart. He abandoned all his pride in that moment, and allowed Merlin to see the fear he had kept at bay, at Merlin’s request, so they could have a good and happy day together.

“Oh, Arthur,” Merlin sighed sadly. “It’s alright. We don’t need to.” He took a deep breath. “Tomorrow I am going to meet Morgana, alone, and we don’t know how that will end. There’s no point pretending otherwise, not anymore.”

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Arthur said. He’d held onto the words since Merlin told him, because he knew it was pointless and Merlin wouldn’t change his mind, but he still had to say them. “I don’t want you to have to take her on by yourself, especially once she learns the truth of her memories. We don’t know how she will react.”

“Arthur.” Merlin's hand gently cupped Arthur’s cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “I have to do this. You both need to know the truth before you go to war against each other, it’s the only right thing to do. And perhaps… Well, you never know. Maybe Mordred had some success in talking to her. Maybe getting her memories back will help her believe him.”

“It’s unlike you to be so optimistic about a dangerous situation,” Arthur pointed out. “You know what that tells me?” He put his hand over Merlin’s. “It tells me you think you might not be coming back. I know you’re as afraid of that as I am.”

Merlin’s eyes fell down, avoiding eye contact, which was the only confirmation Arthur needed. He whispered his name softly, and instantly his unspoken plea was met with Merlin’s lips on his, loving and gentle and desperate. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and pressed him as closely against him as possible so he felt his heart beating against his chest, his own pounding back, almost in rhythm. Merlin’s hands were in Arthur’s hair, pulling as if he, too, wanted to eliminate any and all distance between them.

“If this is our last night together,” Merlin breathed against Arthur’s cheek, “I don’t want to spend it with fear and sad goodbyes. I want to spend it showing you how much I love you, and say it to you over and over again.”

Arthur swallowed against the terror that wanted to take over and he focused on the feel of Merlin’s skin and the sound of his words. If this turned out to be the last time…

“You’re right,” he said, cupping his hand behind Merlin’s neck. “I love you, and I will tell you that a thousand times until the sun rises.”

*****

When Morgana entered the cabin, he was already there, waiting. Standing exactly as he would when he stood behind Arthur’s shoulder and waited to serve him during their meals with Uther. A servant’s pose. Except there was something different about it now. His head was held high, not bowed in submission. His shoulders were squared and confident.

“Emrys,” Morgana said, and though the name still made her tremble with fear, she couldn’t quite place that fear over Merlin; they didn’t seem to fit.

“Morgana,” Merlin greeted her solemnly.

She wasn’t certain why he had chosen her old hut in the woods as their neutral meeting ground, but she imagined he had been here long enough to comb through every inch of the place to make sure there was nothing to give either of them an unfair advantage.

Too bad he didn’t know about the box she had hidden just outside a hole in the rotting walls.

“How well you kept your secret,” Morgana said, unable to hide her contempt or her astonishment. “How well you protected my brother. Who would have thought it, a worthless servant with all that power?”

Merlin smirked, seemingly despite himself. “This worthless servant has kept Camelot safe from you on more than one occasion,” he reminded her, then his expression grew serious. “Is Mordred still alive?”

Morgana wanted to spit on him. “Of course he’s alive!” she sneered. “Though he has turned against me, just like everyone else. That is your influence, I suspect.”

“All I did was trust him,” Merlin said. “And he proved worthy of that trust. I just wish I had given you the same chance.”

“What are you talking about?” Morgana asked. She felt on edge, like she might flee out the door at any moment, though Merlin still hadn’t shown himself as fearsome as the Emrys she had always imagined.

“ _Emrys will be your destiny, and your doom_.” He quoted the prophecy that kept her awake at night when her nightmares were too much. “I know that much of what you have done, you have done because you fear those words will come true.”

“And yet Mordred seemed convinced that they already have.” Morgana gestured to her perfectly intact body. “As we can all see, I am still here. So, was it simply a trick to lure me here, or do you have some genuine reason to think it’s true?”

“I _know_ it’s true,” Merlin said gravely, and his blue eyes on her were full of sadness and regret, so much that, for a moment, she almost forgot herself and wanted to comfort him. She rid herself of that ridiculous instinct instantly.

“If you believe that,” she said instead, “why would you choose to tell me? To risk incurring my wrath?”

“You have already started a war, Morgana,” Merlin said. “At this point, the risk is worth taking, even if there is barely any chance of you changing your course.”

“Oh, there is little chance of that, indeed,” Morgana replied. “Soon, I shall have Arthur right where I want him, and the throne will be rightfully mine.”

Merlin sighed, and she could have sworn he looked disappointed. She wanted to claw that look right off his face. “Well, I suppose there is no use delaying the inevitable,” he said, more to himself, she thought, than to her.

“I am quite eager to see why you’re wasting my time and yours like this,” Morgana agreed. “Out with it, Emrys.”

Merlin swallowed, and for the first time since she arrived, he looked nervous. That was the first indication Morgana had that what he was about to say could be the truth.

“Years ago, when you were still in Camelot and still our friend, you were so terrified when you began to suspect your own nature. You were so unsure, the thought that you might have magic made you think you were losing your mind, you were so frightened.”

Morgana didn’t enjoy this reminder of who she was before, the timid creature that Mordred seemed so determined was still inside her somewhere.

“I couldn’t stand to see my friend so distraught,” Merlin continued. “After all, I knew exactly how she felt. I didn’t want her to feel even more alone than I did. So…I made a choice, to let her know that she wasn’t alone.”

“What are you talking about?” Morgana asked. “You never–”

“Oh, but I did,” Merlin said, and she could swear he was holding back tears, his voice thick with them. “I told you. I tried to help you. And though I wished you didn’t have to feel it, it felt so good knowing there was someone else just as terrified as me…But then, things changed.”

A dark look of misery crept over Merlin, and he struggled to continue.“You changed, Morgana,” he said sadly. “I realised that you were getting further and further away from yourself, and I wanted to help bring you back, I did, but suddenly I found that I didn’t trust you anymore and I…I was so afraid, Morgana.” He looked at her and she could see that fear plain in his eyes. “I was terrified that you would do something, that you would reveal both my magic and yours to Uther and I would never be able to protect Arthur again.”

There was genuine panic as he relived the memory, and once again Morgana felt that unwelcome twinge of wanting to reassure him, and once again she shoved it away instantly.

“I thought I’d made a mistake, trusting you with the truth about me,” Merlin continued. “I kept imagining all these horrible outcomes and I couldn’t bear it. It was almost a whim, really, which makes it worse. I didn’t take as much time as I should have considering it. I let my fear for myself and for Arthur drive me to action without lingering on the consequences.”

A dark, unsettling feeling curled up in the pit of Morgana’s stomach, unsure where this was going but entirely sure she wouldn’t like the answer.

“I weaved a memory spell into your pillow, Morgana,” Merlin finally said, and a lone tear trickled down his face as he did. “I made you forget that you ever knew about my magic. So, you see, the prophecy has already been fulfilled. I made you feel alone again, and vulnerable to Morgause’s influence and your own anger. Don’t you see, Morgana? I _have_ already been your doom. I am responsible for your descent into darkness.”

Morgana couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She wasn’t certain if the coiling feeling inside her was rage or grief or terror. She just stared.

“I know it won’t make up for anything,” Merlin continued. “But I want to give back what I took. Before the end, you deserve to know everything.”

She just… stood there. Morgana had never been one to be speechless or freeze in place, but now she found she had no idea how to react. She hadn’t seen it coming, she hadn’t planned or prepared for it. She had no road map to guide her.

So when Merlin raised his hand and looked deep into her eyes, all she could do was nod, and listen to his faint words. His eyes lit up like molten gold, and for a moment she saw all the power he was always hiding, and she would have been terrified if the magic hadn’t already hit her.

It was like being plunged into a pool of water. Memories rushed over Morgana like a relentless storm. Images and words as clear as anything, taking her back to conversations from long ago that were suddenly different than she remembered.

Conversations where she looked into blue eyes that were shy and afraid, but genuinely caring.

_“I know what it’s like… to have nightmares, I mean. Dreams you can’t control. I hope it gets easier for you.”_

_“Thank you, Merlin. I appreciate that. It’s always better to know you’re not alone, isn’t it?”_

Conversations where she was scared and lonely but felt comforted by the words of a friend who had nothing to gain from trusting her, but who did it anyway, like giving a gift.

_“I believe you now, and I meant what I said before. It is easier to stand when you know you are not alone.”_

_“Yes, My Lady, it is.”_

Times she was overwhelmed by what was happening to her and felt as though she was losing her mind entirely.

_“It’s magic, Merlin. You know it is. You believe me, I know you do. Please, Merlin, I just need to hear someone say it so I don’t have to keep feeling like I’m imagining it.”_

_“I don’t think you’re imagining it, Morgana. And I will try to find a way to help you. I swear I will.”_

Memories where the soft words of her trusted friend made her feel like the world wasn’t as much against her as it seemed.

_“We will protect each other, won’t we, Merlin?”_

_“Of course we will. You have my word.”_

The first time his eyes clouded with suspicion, and she knew she was lying to him. His utter faith in her slipping away with her every word.

_"I need you to trust that I am doing the right thing.”_

_“Are you certain?”_

_“Of course. Thank you, Merlin. It means more to me than you know, having a friend like you who understands.”_

Morgana fell to her knees, crying out as the rush of memories left her head spinning and her heart pounding. She clutched her head as it felt like her mind might spill out if she didn’t.

When the overwhelming feeling began to settle, Morgana was left with her heavy breathing and her returned memories settled as though they had always been there, but deeply buried, like childhood memories she’d forgotten she still had.

It was too much. Too many feelings, too much pain and relief and she couldn’t take it. Merlin had done this to her. No matter the reason, no matter her feeling on it, she couldn’t take this. She couldn’t accept this. Her mind was spinning and she was barely aware of herself at all when she whispered the words under her breath, the words to open the box outside the hut.

Morgana just managed to look up as the hissing creature slithered through the hole in the wall and jumped at Merlin, whose full attention had been on Morgana with a look of such guilt and concern that for one horrifying moment, Morgana almost helped him. 

The parts of herself that weren’t overcome by regained memories helped her flee from the cabin before she could, leaving behind the creature and Merlin’s gasps as he tried to fight it.

She did _not_ regret her decision.

_She didn’t._

Merlin deserved what he got, and in turn, it made Arthur an easier target.

She _did_ _not_ regret this.

*

Arthur was pacing, barely listening to Gaius, Gwen and Lancelot’s conversation, when the door to the physician’s chamber opened and Merlin fell through it, tumbling to the floor in exhaustion. Arthur rushed to him, not knowing what to expect, thinking he was prepared for the worst, until Merlin looked up at him.

Merlin’s eyes were hollow, nothing in them but a deep pain and emptiness that pierced Arthur’s soul. Merlin nearly crushed Arthur’s hand when he found it, like it was the only thing that helped him cling to sanity. Arthur clung right back.

“She took it, Arthur,” Merlin’s hoarse voice was barely audible, like he had been screaming or crying or both. “She took my magic. She took my magic.”

*

Mordred looked up at the sound of footsteps. He hadn’t moved from the floor of his invisible prison, where his tears had eventually drained him enough to sleep. Now he watched Morgana as she walked towards him and he could see the truth in her eyes.

“He gave you the memories back,” Mordred said hoarsely. He felt nauseous.

Morgana walked by his cell with barely a glance, her eyes downcast as she went to her throne. She hesitated for a moment before she sat down, still not looking at him.

“He gave you the memories like he promised and you did it anyway, didn’t you?” He received no reply, but he didn’t need one. “Oh, Morgana. How could you do it? How could you inflict such agony on another sorcerer? Perhaps I was wrong… Perhaps there is nothing left of who you used to be.”

This made Morgana look at him, defiance altering her stature until she looked every bit the queen she fancied herself. “I don’t care about the memories!” she shouted. “They mean nothing to me! If anything, they only serve as evidence that I’m right. Merlin has been next to Arthur all this time. Emrys is no better than anyone else who ever betrayed me.”

“Of course he is!” Mordred shouted back. “Merlin never sought to harm you! He was afraid of what you could become, and he made the wrong choice because of it. All he wanted was to give back what he took and you punished him for it! Everyone else you’ve hurt, you’ve lured them to you or taken them by force. Merlin came to _you_! He knew the risk he took and he decided it was worth it. This was your chance, Morgana, both yours and his.”

Morgana glared at him. “Do you think I care about what you think of me? You think I care why Merlin did what he did? None of it matters to me.”

She shot to her feet and stood there, for one brief moment, and Mordred could see the uncertainty she tried to hide. He could see that it all touched her more than she pretended, and he felt something small inside himself that was remarkably similar to hope.

“I have a battle to prepare for,” she hissed, and walked away.

*

Gwen sat beside Merlin where he stared out the window of Gaius’s chambers, looking at nothing. A blanket was wrapped around him and he looked so defeated. Gaius flipped through one of his giant books on a nearby table, and Lancelot and Arthur had been forced away to deal with the urgent matter of a wounded garrison returning to the palace, though both Gwen and Lancelot had practically had to shove Arthur out of the physician’s chambers by force.

Gwen had decided to stay behind, for all of them, even though it broke her heart to see Merlin look so… small.

“Look,” Gaius said, breaking the silence. “Here.”

Merlin went over to look into the book. Gwen remained where she was, waiting.

“Gean canach?” Merlin asked. “That… That’s the language of the old religion, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Gaius confirmed. “The gean canach is a fearsome creature forged by the tears of the earth mother Nemaine. It devours the magic of others. Draining them of their power.”

Merlin seemed to turn paler. “I thought all such creatures were destroyed in the Great Purge.”

“All but one, it would seem,” Gaius said sadly.

Merlin didn’t respond, but returned to his seat by the window. His eyes met Gwen’s for just a moment before he looked away, staring at nothing. Gwen moved closer beside him. She didn’t know what to say, and it seemed he didn’t, either, but she took his hand anyway, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

*****

Merlin stood in the corridor and watched the injured knights, the empty place inside him wailing at the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to help. Gaius finished tending to a knight clutching a wound on his head, and joined Merlin.

“The garrison at Stowell was attacked,” he informed.

“Morgana,” Merlin assumed.

“It would seem so,” Gaius agreed. “She is taking advantage of the moment you are most helpless to begin her attack.”

Gods, how Merlin loathed being helpless. Useless. It was taking everything in him to stay focused and upright and not lock himself alone in a dark room like he wanted.

“What am I going to do?” Merlin asked. He tried to keep his voice steady but he wasn’t certain if it worked.

“Well, for the moment you are going to help me treat the wounded,” Gaius said sternly. “Your skill as a physician is still valid.”

*

Gwen sat beside Arthur at the round table, Lancelot on her other side. Merlin stood with his back against the wall and observe the meeting, and Lancelot, though he forced himself to listen attentively to the others, could not look away from his friend. Merlin tried so hard to look stoic, for their sakes, Lancelot imagined, but in his eyes it was obvious that something was broken.

“A force of Saxons, sire,” Leon was saying to the king. “They crossed the northern border last night and attacked the garrison at Stowell.”

“They march under Morgana’s command,” Arthur said.

“There’d be no doubt about it, sire. It’s not men we faced, but sorcery.”

Lancelot watched Merlin flinch ever so slightly at Leon’s words. He was certain Arthur was noticing, too, but as always the king remained impressively on task.

“We shouldn’t be surprised,” Arthur said. “She’s been massing an army for weeks. Now with Stowell taken, she has a base at our northern border, which can only mean one thing.”

“She means to take Camelot,” Gwen finished for him.

“Well, she’s already made her first mistake,” Percival said.

“We have sufficient time to prepare our defences, sire,” Leon continued. “We can make our stand here, however great her army the walls of Camelot will hold. The Citadel will not fall.”

Arthur considered for a moment. “Perhaps, perhaps not,” he said. “We’ve already deserted Stowell. I won’t forsake the people of this land while we take refuge here.”

“But we can protect them, sire, in Camelot itself,” Percival pointed out.

“Some, but not all,” Arthur replied. “Countless men, women and children will be left behind. People who I’ve vowed to protect.”

“We cannot save everyone, Arthur,” Gwen said sadly. “No matter how much we may wish it.”

Lancelot watched Merlin’s expression harden with every word. Lancelot wished he knew what his friend was thinking, that there was some way to make this all easier for him.

“There is a way,” Arthur insisted, and Merlin’s eyes were glued to the king as he spoke, as if he already guessed what he would say. “One way alone. We ensure that she never makes it this far.”

The room was quiet for a moment. “We… ride out and meet them,” Percival said.

Arthur nodded. “Man to man.”

“But, sire,” Leon tried. “Morgana commands an army of thousands.”

“Nonetheless,” Arthur said. “It’s our duty as protectors of this land. We cannot stand by and let our citizens be slaughtered. Those are not the values that Camelot was built on. Whatever the outcome of this battle, my sister cannot and will not desecrate those values.” Lancelot noticed Arthur lock eyes with Merlin before he spoke again. “A war has begun.”

*

In the council chambers, Arthur and the others were looking over the map, planning where to meet Morgana before she could make it to Camelot. Percival was suggesting a good plan, one Arthur was inclined to agree with.

“What do they call this place?” Arthur asked.

“Camlann, sir.”

At Percival’s reply, Arthur’s eyes met Merlin’s. It had hurt to look at him every moment since his return, to see the pain he suffered from missing his magic. Now, there was fear there alongside that pain. It was all of Merlin’s worst fears, Arthur thought. And there was no way he could make this easier for him.

“Then it is at Camlann that we make our stand,” Arthur said, and despite all the nightmares visible in his eyes, Merlin nodded in agreement.

*

At Merlin’s request, his closest friends had come to the physician’s chamber to listen to what he had to say. Gaius, Lancelot, Gwen, Arthur and Gwaine stood around the room, waiting. All of them had been looking at him like a wounded animal since he returned from Morgana, but he didn’t blame them. He knew it wasn’t pity. They cared about his pain, and he loved them for that.

“You cannot go to Camlann, my lord,” Gaius stated to Arthur. “If you do, the prophecy could come true and you may die.”

Merlin spoke before Arthur could. “I know Arthur better than I know myself; none of us will persuade him of that.” Merlin gave Arthur a small smile. “This battle is the only way to save his people. If he is going to lose his life… he’ll still go.”

“You’re making me sound so noble,” Arthur said. “It’s my duty as King.”

“Then what are we to do?” Lancelot asked.

“I know I can’t prevent him from going, and I know he will not go alone,” Merlin said, “but I must protect him as best as I can.”

“How will you do that without your magic?” Gaius asked.

Merlin took a deep breath. “I must regain it.” Everyone looked at him and each other in surprise. “Perhaps it’s beyond anyone’s power,” Merlin continued. “But if there is an answer, I know where to seek it.”

“Where?” Arthur asked.

“The birthplace of magic itself,” Merlin replied. “The Crystal Cave.”

Gaius crossed his arms instantly. “You know where the Crystal Cave is hiding. The Valley of the Fallen Kings is crawling with bandits. Without your powers, you won’t stand a chance.”

Merlin smiled. “Which is why I won’t be going alone.”

Gwaine stepped forward. “I’ll be escorting him,” he said, and held his hand up before Arthur or Lancelot could interrupt. “The King cannot be spared right now. No matter how badly you want to go, you are needed here.” Gwaine looked at Arthur with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “I will look after him. I promise.”

Arthur nodded. “I know you will. Thank you.”

“We’ll wait until you depart for Camlann,” Merlin said. “We all have a lot of preparations to make.”

*

As much as they both wanted to avoid it, Arthur and Merlin were finally alone together in their chambers, the time running out until they had to separate. Merlin had laid Arthur’s armour out on the table.

“I think that’s everything,” he said, forcing his voice to sound calm.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied.

“I just wanted to make sure you had all you needed for your journey.” Merlin turned and found Arthur standing right behind him, with a look in his eyes so torn that it made Merlin forget to maintain his calm façade. He leaned against Arthur’s chest and felt his familiar arms wrap around him, ensnaring him in the safest place he knew.

“I hate that I cannot come with you,” Merlin whispered. “I’ve always gone with you.”

“I know,” Arthur said. “I know you would come even now, if you could.”

“I would.”

“But you know I understand, right? Your magic… it is a part of you, and without it, you are not happy. You cannot protect me or Camelot the way you’re used to, and I know what that means to you.” Arthur’s grip tightened. “I love you. You need to do this, just like I need to go to Camlann.” He leaned back so they could look at each other. “But Merlin, I’m telling you this; we will see each other again. This is not goodbye.”

“Arthur…” Merlin swallowed, not sure what to say. All he knew was that he wished Arthur’s words were true.

“You know, Merlin, even before I knew about your magic, I always thought you were the bravest man I ever met.” Arthur leaned his forehead against Merlin’s and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I knew I was right.”

Merlin didn’t have the capacity to say anything. Words seemed too weak to express everything he felt. Instead, he kissed Arthur again, longer, urgently and desperately, needing it more than he ever had before so he could carry it with him as they went separate ways. Every emotion he poured into the kiss was returned by Arthur, both of them needing the other to know, to really know, how much he was loved.

Once it was over, once they needed to breathe, they still weren’t quite ready to let go. They held each other for a long time, until Gwaine arrived to escort Merlin to the Crystal Caves. With one last, loving look, they departed.

*

Gwen found Arthur and Lancelot in the main square, preparing to depart with the other knights. “Lancelot!” she called.

“Gwen.” He looked at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming with you,” she announced.

“The battlefield is no place for a Queen,” Arthur said.

“I have no intention of joining you there, I assure you,” Gwen replied to Arthur, before she turned her to Lancelot. “If these are to be our last days, Lancelot, I would rather spend them together than sit here and wait for someone I might never see again.”

Lancelot looked like he might argue; she could see his concern, but finally his eyes softened and he took her hand. “Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

*

Morgana came to see him again just before she left.

“It’s strange,” she said sadly. “I always imagined that when this day came, you would be standing beside me against Arthur.

“Then you do not know me at all,” Mordred replied. “I could never allow my hatred to control me to the point of taking innocent lives.”

“No knight of Camelot is innocent!” Morgana snapped. “It is their choice to fight.”

“It is _your_ choice,” Mordred threw back at her. “You are the one who is driven by anger. You are the one who refuses to see that the very thing you claim to fight for, Arthur is already doing. He is doing it right, peacefully, officially. He wants freedom for those with magic as much as you!”

Morgana laughed. “That is what everyone has been telling me. What none of you understand is that Arthur cannot be trusted! He is his father’s son; he is never going to go through with it.”

“Arthur is nothing like Uther. You are!” Mordred shouted. “Every decision Uther ever made was driven by his fear, no matter who suffered because of it. In that way, you are exactly the same. You could stop all this death if you choose.” Mordred paused, forced himself to take a breath. “I still want to believe there is hope for you, Morgana. I want to believe that there is still a version of you that can make the right choice.”

He looked into her eyes, pleading she could see how much he cared, how much he grieved for the person she was before. She looked back, and for a moment, it almost seemed like it was the old Morgana looking at him. Like she finally heard him.

Then she closed herself off entirely, and with cold indifference, she walked away without another word.

*

Gwaine and Merlin travelled in silence until they reached the Valley of the Fallen Kings, and unsurprisingly, it was Gwaine who broke it.

“Thanks for letting me come with you,” he said genuinely.

Merlin looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Gwaine shrugged. “I know how hard this is for you, and there were plenty of other strong, handsome knights that could have escorted you.” He chuckled. “You chose me! I’m honoured.”

Merlin laughed, which he hadn’t thought he would be able to do in the current circumstances. “There’s no one I would rather have beside me right now,” he said, and found it was entirely true. Gwaine’s outlook and spirit were exactly what he needed for this journey, and he was so grateful for his friend’s presence.

A short while later, the momentary relief vanished when they were attacked, and Merlin could do _nothing_. He could only watch as Gwaine fought, he could only scramble away in fear until his friend came out victorious.

“You okay?” Gwaine asked as he helped Merlin to his feet.

“Yeah,” Merlin said shakily. “I think so. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Merlin,” Gwaine said. “It’s the least I could do.”

Merlin ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I hate feeling so… weak, defenceless.”

“Hey,” Gwaine said. “We’ll have you back to yourself again in no time.”

He sounded so optimistic. Merlin wished he felt the same way. The Crystal Cave was his only and final hope, but there were no guarantees he would get his magic back. And without it… He hated this feeling. It was like a physical part of himself had been carved out and left a gaping cavern, and he felt the absence every moment. Nothing felt right, he didn’t feel complete. The natural connection he shared with the world around him, the link between his magic and the earth, it was gone now and it was like he was walking in a dream, not feeling entirely real or like he belonged there.

He needed his magic back, not just to be able to protect everyone else, but for himself. Magic had always made him different, had made his very existence dangerous, but it also helped shape the person he had become, and Merlin was proud of that person, comfortable in his own skin. He wanted that back.

Neither men spoke again until they were right by the entrance to the Crystal Cave. There, Merlin stopped and turned to Gwaine.

“I can make my own way from here,” he said.

Gwaine looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Sorry?”

“You needn’t come any further, I’ll be fine.”

“How will you get back?” Gwaine asked with concern. “There are bandits everywhere.”

“Once I have my magic back, I’ll be perfectly safe, I promise you,” Merlin assured him, trying not to let his own doubts show.

“And what happens when you have your magic again?” Gwaine asked.

Merlin put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I follow where you’re going. To Camlann. You have to trust me. You should get going; Arthur will need you by his side. I won’t be of any use to anyone until I find what I’m looking for.”

Gwaine considered him for a long moment, and he looked almost sad. “You know,” he said, serious and sincere, “you are so much more than your magic, Merlin. You are worth a hell of a lot to some of us, magic or no. Magic isn’t what makes you the best person I know.” Gwaine smiled. “Magic is just your sword. But, until you get it back…” Gwaine held out his sword. “Look after yourself, Merlin.”

Merlin stared at his friend in awe. He had never expected such kind words from Gwaine, who usually showed his friendship with actions. He was moved, and he reached to take the sword.

“You know to use the sharp end, right?” Gwaine asked, and they both laughed.

“Yeah,” Merlin assured him. They shook hands, neither one interested in a tearful goodbye. Merlin had to hope this wouldn’t be the end.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Gwaine said.

Merlin nodded. “Thank you, my friend. For everything.”

Gwaine walked back the way they came.

Merlin braced himself, and entered the Crystal Cave.

*

He crawled through the tight space with his torch in front of him, until he made it to the tunnel where he could stand up. Instantly, his torch went out, and he stopped.

“ _Emrys_.”

Morgana’s voice came from nowhere and everywhere, but he couldn’t see her. He pulled the sword from his belt and looked around in the dark cave.

“ _Over here, Emrys,_ ” Morgana’s voice teased.

“Come face me, Morgana,” Merlin challenged, his anger making him feel braver than he had against the bandits outside. Her voice kept saying his name, echoing off the walls, forcing him to turn around in circles to try and find its source.

“ _So brave_ ,” her voice said. “ _Even though you cannot help your King now. You cannot even help yourself._ ”

Merlin clutched at the sword until his knuckles turned white. “Why do you hide?” he shouted at the darkness. “You still afraid of me? Are you going to be as cowardly now as you were when you _took_ my magic?” His blood felt like it was boiling with anger. “You couldn’t very well accept a fair fight, could you?”

He spun back around and saw Morgana coming through the entrance behind him. She didn’t look like she had any regrets at all, and he hated her for it. For the first time, he truly hated her for everything she had done.

“I fear no one,” she said defiantly. “Least of all you.”

He didn’t care if it was pointless; Merlin swung his sword and cut her arm. She flinched from the pain but then she straightened and _laughed_ at him.

“You have defied me for the last time, Emrys.” Morgana backed away, slowly, and Merlin kept his sword pointed steadily at her. But once she was through the doorway, she raised her arms. “Stanas ahreosath!” she shouted at the caves, and Merlin’s shouts were drowned out by the sound of the rocks she caused to fall.

The collapse left him dazed, and when his mind cleared, he found himself sitting on the floor, leaning against the rocks. The rocks that blocked every bit of the doorway. Barely aware of his actions, he started pulling at the rocks, trying to move them, but they were stuck fast. He reached higher, trying to get some of the smaller rocks on top, but it did nothing but scratch his hands to bloody bits.

In blind despair, he hit at the rocks and screamed into the nothingness of the caves, and he sank to the floor and did nothing to stop the flow of tears spilling down his face. He wasn’t certain how long he sat there, crying, but eventually he looked up.

A faint light shone through a tunnel.

Merlin didn’t know where the strength came from, but he forced himself to get up and climb towards the light. He reached it, and just about managed one look around the glittering Crystal Cave, before his strength left him and he collapsed.

*

Merlin woke up to the sound a voice. A voice he recognised despite how little he had gotten to hear it.

“Merlin,” the voice whispered gently.

Merlin opened his eyes and turned to see his father there, his spirit just the same as he was did the day he died, and looking at Merlin with tender sadness.

“Father,” Merlin said.

“My son.”

“Are you here?” Merlin asked. “Are you real?”

“Dead or alive, real or imagined, past or present… These things are of no consequence,” Balinor said. “All that matters is that you heed the words of your father who loved you. Do not let go, Merlin. Do not give in.”

“I have no way to go on. Morgana is already victorious.”

“Only if you accept defeat. But if you fight, if you let hope into your heart, Morgana cannot win.”

“What hope is there without my magic?” Merlin asked.

Balinor kneeled beside where Merlin lay on the cave floor. “Merlin, you are more than a son of your father. You are the son of the earth, the sea, the sky… Magic is the fabric of this world, and you were born of that magic.” Balinor looked at Merlin with such loving awe that he almost couldn’t take it. “You are magic itself,” his father said. “You cannot lose what you are.”

“But,” Merlin whispered, “how do I find myself… again?”

“Believe, Merlin. Believe what your heart knows to be true. That you have always been, and always will be.”

“Always will be,” Merlin repeated, his head spinning as he tried to understand.

“Rest now,” Balinor ordered. “Rest, my son. And soon, you shall awaken into the light.”

Merlin was already sleeping before the last word was spoken.

*

When he woke up, everything felt different.

Wait, no, not different… It felt like it should be. The empty wrongness inside him, it wasn’t there, wasn’t howling painfully anymore. He sat up and touched where the cuts from the rocks had been. There was nothing, no blood and no wounds.

Merlin pulled himself up into a crouch, and cupped his hands together. He looked inside himself, and there it was, as much a part of him as his blood and skin.

“Gewyrc an lif,” he whispered. He felt the magic roaring to life, and he opened his hands.

A small butterfly, with blue wings the exact shade of the pair of eyes he loved most, flew away from his palm. He watched it flutter up into the air with a grin on his face because the relief was too much, too intense not to take a moment and appreciate the pure joy of being whole again. Well, mostly whole. There was still one thing missing.

Merlin stood and focused on one of the crystals around him. He saw flashes, some he had seen before and some were new. Excalibur coming out of the lake. Mordred locked up by Morgana. The red dress Morgana used to wear. Himself receiving a spell from the great dragon. Merlin focused, concentrating hard, until what he saw were Saxons marching along a path, ready for attack. He flashed through several more images until he finally found what he was looking for.

Arthur.

Merlin saw him at the camp, asleep in his tent. He looked like he was having bad dreams. Merlin reached his mind through the crystal towards his sleeping king.

“Arthur,” he whispered. “Arthur, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you. I wish I were already there. Your plan is a good one and you may yet save this kingdom, but beware. Your army’s flank is vulnerable. There’s an old path over the ridge of Camlann, and Morgana knows of it. She means to trap you, Arthur. Find the path, or the battle will be over before it’s begun. I love you… Find the path.”

Merlin willed Arthur to hear him, and he nearly collapsed in relief when he saw Arthur wake up. In the crystal, he watched Arthur gather his thoughts, considering what he just heard. A small, pleased smile formed on his lips before he sprinted out of bed and into action as instructed, and Merlin knew he understood – Merlin had his magic back, and he was coming.

They would see each other again.

They could win.

*

Out of sight of her allies and troupes at Camlann, Morgana sat on the forest floor with Aithusa lying by her side, head resting in Morgana’s lap. Morgana needed this moment of peace with her only true friend before the battle.

Aithusa made a sad, rumbling noise that Morgana recognised as the dragon trying to soothe her stormy thoughts. She ran a hand over the pale, scaly skin.

“Thank you, my sweet,” Morgana said. “I feel as though I have been cracked open and filled with something both old and unfamiliar. These memories...”

She trailed off. The memories were only moments. Small, minuscule moments that should hold no comparison to all the loss and pain she had suffered since. Yet Merlin’s pesky blue eyes looking at her with such sincere concern and care kept intruding on her thoughts. His words of comfort despite his fear that he could be found out… Oh, none of it made any sense. She should hate him for intruding on her mind like he had, and that was _all_ she should be feeling.

And then there were still Mordred’s words echoing inside her constantly, like a stubborn bell that refused to stop ringing.

_I hope that the person I knew, the person who cared for me and who believed in love and in kindness… I hope that she is still there, underneath all this hatred you have buried her in. I believe that if she is there, you can fight to get her back._

Wishful ramblings of a naïve child, that’s all they were.

_I think the reason you’re keeping me here, and alive, is because you are lonely, and I remind you what it was like to be loved instead of feared._

How did he dare talk to her like that, like he knew her mind better than she did? That was simply the kind of self-righteousness all knights of Camelot prided themselves on. There was no truth to any of his words.

“Wasn’t there?” Morgana whispered quietly into the forest. Aithusa burrowed closer against Morgana, causing the priestess to smile. She forced that smile away the instant she recognised it. It felt too much like the fond smile of someone she had not been for a very long time.

Someone she would never be again, no matter what Mordred or Merlin had to say about it. They were both wrong. That person they missed, she no longer existed. There was no bringing her back. No pulling her to the surface.

No. They were wrong, and that’s all there was to it.

*****

Merlin wasn’t surprised this time, when he looked up from the crystal and saw his father watching him.

“Thank you,” Merlin said. “For your help, your guidance.”

“I only offered a hand,” Balinor replied. “You stand all on your own two feet, Merlin, you always have done.”

He smiled. “As did you, father. I follow in your footsteps.”

These words seemed to please Balinor. “Your journey has only just begun. You wield a power you yet cannot conceive of. Only in the heart of the Crystal Cave will your true self be revealed.” Balinor looked towards the centre of the cave. The seriousness of his words frightened Merlin a little, but his certain tone felt reassuring. “Move towards the light. Your destiny awaits. Do not be afraid. Trust in what you are, trust in what will be.”

Merlin started towards the light, but stopped and looked back at his father, grateful beyond words for this chance to have spoken with him and heard his words of wisdom.

“Goodbye, father.”

Balinor smiled. “There are no goodbyes, Emrys, for I will always be. As you will always be.”

Merlin wasn’t certain what he meant, exactly, but he nodded, and did as his father told him to; he walked towards the light.

*

In the rush of battle, Arthur’s sole focus was on his sword, on defeating his enemies and defending his men. Even as the chaos of war raged around him, he could tell they were losing. His men were fighting hard and bravely, but they were outnumbered. Every time an enemy was slain, another took his place. There was no split second of relief, no momentary surge forward where the knights of Camelot gained the upper hand. Every part of Arthur’s body ached beneath his armour and there was no end in sight. Morgana’s men were winning, and if Arthur wasn’t so focused on the blood and steel of battle, he would be losing hope.

He had struck down one group of Saxons and turned to face another rushing towards him, when a blast of lightning knocked them all down. Arthur spun towards another group running with weapons ready towards him, but they, too, were hit by a flash of lightning and were thrown back on the ground.

Arthur looked around, eyes searching everywhere for what he knew he would find, but he had to see it, had to see _him_ with his own eyes just to be sure –

There. On top of the cliff, halfway between each side’s war camp, stood Merlin. Merlin, with the air around him practically crackling with power as he sent flashes of lightning at the Saxons, evening out the numbers more with each blow.

For one moment, their eyes met, and Arthur felt himself beaming with pride, happier than he ever thought he could be in the midst of battle.

The loud screech warned him that Aithusa was coming back for them, but she didn’t even get close to Arthur and his men before Merlin’s voice rang out with such power in it, he was sure they could all feel his voice in their bones. Merlin’s dragon tongue echoed over the cliff walls, and Aithusa stopped her decent, turned in the air and flew away.

Arthur stared up at Merlin, and as did most of his knights, some of them already knew who their saviour was but many of them had no idea. All they knew was that a sorcerer had shown up to turn the tide of battle, and he was on _their_ side. Arthur faced his knights and raised his sword.

“For the love of Camelot!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, and his knights echoed his battle cry, and with renewed confidence, they charged after the Saxons.

The Saxons – who had seen the same sorcerer fighting against them, and had already begun their retreat.

*

Gwen stood outside the hospital tent and watched the distant figure of Merlin in amazement.

“He made it!” she cheered, feeling relief for the first time since Lancelot and Arthur left for the battle. Gaius joined her side and gazed at his chosen son.

“He is truly remarkable,” he said with a tone of awe.

Gwen took the old man’s hand. “I knew he could. Merlin has never let us down. He wouldn’t start now.”

Gaius smiled at her fondly. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed.”

They looked up at Merlin one final time, and went back into the tent where they were needed.

*

When Morgana found him – as he had expected her to – he found that it was easier not to hate her now that he was wholly himself again, and knew that she would not win. Still, it was not easy to look at her like that. Watching the battle had given her a look of mania, and when he had thrown her aside to stop her assisting the Saxons with her magic, she had taken a few scrapes and her hair looked wild where it framed her raging expression. She looked for all the world like the villain she had worked so hard to become., and it filled him with grief.

“Emrys!” she screamed as she rushed towards him. Merlin still stood on top of the cliff, where there was space enough for them to finally have this confrontation that was long overdue.

“Morgana.” He found his own voice wasn’t angry, just sad and full of pity. “I do not want to fight you,” he said. “The time for bloodshed is over. Please, surrender. Despite all your actions, if you show remorse, Arthur will be merciful.”

“ _Merciful_!” Morgana spat the word onto the ground. “So he would lock me up in darkness for the rest of my life instead of putting me down like a mad dog?”

“You have hurt and killed too many people for there not to be consequences; you know that,” Merlin said. “I blame myself for what you've become...but this has to end.” His calm seemed to infuriate Morgana, but he didn’t have it in him to be afraid anymore. Not of her.

“I will never come crawling to Arthur begging for forgiveness,” Morgana said. “You don’t want to fight me? Fine. I’ll just kill you, then.”

But Merlin could see it now. He had faced Morgana’s hatred and anger enough times to know it all too well, but this was different. This was… bluster. He wasn’t certain if she was trying to convince him or herself that she had no doubts or regrets, but he wasn’t buying it. She was posturing too much.

Perhaps Mordred had been right. Had his words had some effect on her? Had her old memories stirred some part of her that Mordred could reach?

“You don’t have to do this, Morgana,” he said softly, and that trace of kindness in his voice seemed to be the final straw.

Morgana attacked. 

The battle did not last very long. They were both too good for that, but Merlin could tell the moment Morgana had the surprised realisation that Merlin was more powerful than her, and the only reason he hadn’t already beaten her was that he was actively trying not to kill her. He really did wish she would surrender. He wanted to have the same hope as Mordred. So, despite her murderous attempts, he was only defending from her attacks, or trying to incapacitate her.

But Morgana was quickly adjusting to take advantage of his mercy. By causing a distraction, she was able to get away, magically covering her tracks so Merlin could not follow.

Merlin cursed himself for letting her get away, but right now, he had something more important to do than chasing her down.

*

They had won, but Arthur had sustained enough injuries that they had insisted on hauling him back to camp on a stretcher, despite his protests that others needed it more. He had too much energy to truly feel the pain of his wounds anyway, and too distracted. He couldn’t stop looking around, his eyes everywhere with every step they took until they arrived back at their base camp. And then, just as they were carrying him towards the medical tent where Lancelot and Gwen were already embracing, Arthur spotted him, coming out of the forest at the edge of the camp.

Dark messy hair and blue eyes and tattered clothes and the most radiant smile in the world as his eyes found Arthur. Not even magic would have been enough to keep Arthur on that stretcher.

“Let me down,” Arthur ordered, and fumbled to his feet to the protest of everyone around him. He pushed his way past anyone who stood in his way until he had his arms around Merlin and was swallowed up by the feel of him, the scent of his hair, the heat of his skin and the pure magic of his lips as they met Arthur’s.

He didn’t care who could see them. He wouldn’t have cared if another dragon swept down and set the camp on fire around them. Nothing mattered except that Merlin was here and whole and safe.

“You did it,” Arthur laughed between kisses. “You did it.”

“ _We_ did it,” Merlin corrected, grin just as wide. “You did play some part in it.”

They both laughed and kissed and clung to each other like there was no tomorrow – except there was. There was tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day after that for the rest of their lives, and Arthur knew they would spend each and every one of them together.

*

This time, Aithusa found Morgana where she sat alone in the forest. Morgana barely had the strength to greet her. She truly hadn’t been prepared for exactly how strong Merlin’s magic was, and fighting had taken a lot out of her.

Yet Merlin had let her live. Had practically let her get away, simply by not destroying her right then and there.

Morgana’s every limb and bone felt heavy, drained and sore, but not a sore as her soul. She hadn’t even been certain her soul was still there. She hadn’t known she could still feel these things, be effected… Yet now after her spectacular defeat, everything she tried to deny before the battle returned to her tenfold.

The returned memories, Mordred’s words, Merlin’s words. Merlin’s actions, too. She had seen him order Aithusa away and watched as she obeyed, which told her another thing about Merlin’s power. He was a dragonlord. Yet he only ordered Aithusa away from the battle. Surely he must have had several opportunities to order her to leave Morgana entirely.

“I wonder if it was a kindness to you or to me that he didn’t,” Morgana mused for only Aithusa and the forest to hear. It didn’t really matter. It was a kindness nonetheless.

Morgana sat there with Aithusa beside her, and she had no idea what to do next. All her plans had failed. She was beaten. She genuinely considered simply staying there on the forest floor until she decayed and became one with the earth. It would be easier than all these unwanted thoughts.

She didn’t hear the bird approach until it landed right in front of her. She stared at it for a long time before she noticed the piece of parchment tied to its foot. Morgana nearly laughed. Who could that be from, when all her allies were dead?

Still, she reached carefully for the bird and took the note. The bird flew away with a happy chirp, and she unrolled the mysterious letter.

_Morgana,_

_I asked Merlin to get this to you, and I hope he succeeds, even if in the end it is all for nothing. There is something I need to say to you, even if you only tear these words to pieces._

_Few have as many reasons to despise you as I do. Few have as little to gain by forgiving you for what you have done. Yet I still remember all too well what we used to be to one another. I remember a strong, warm, affectionate woman who fought for her friends and spoke up for her beliefs, who defended those without a voice. And she didn’t do it through murder and manipulations. She did it with a fire of love in her heart._

_I miss that person, Morgana, just as strongly as I hate who she has become. But there are circumstances that have made me think, allowed me to see things a little differently. And so, I am writing you this letter because I have a proposal to make…_

Morgana read the rest of the letter.

She read it again.

And again.

And again.

And then she wept into Aithusa’s neck until she found the strength to stand.

*

When Morgana returned and stood beside his invisible cage, Mordred had no idea what to think. He got to his feet so he could get a good look at her, and she looked… broken. The rage and terror from before was gone.

“The battle is over?” Mordred asked. “Is Arthur still alive?”

To his surprise, Morgana nodded. She wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. “I lost,” she said in a small, sad voice. She stared into nothing for a while before she focused back on him. “I need you to do something for me, Mordred. But first, there is something I must do for myself, and for the safety of… everyone.”

Mordred couldn’t imagine what she meant or what had changed between the last time he saw her and now. He just watched in speechless confusion as she walked back out of the room, returning with a box that he recognised all too well.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t _think_ he understood. Yet his eyes were not betraying him. Mordred watched as Morgana opened the box and put up no fight as the monster inside of it surged towards her. No sound came from her except low whimpers until the creature was finished and back in its box.

Mordred waited, and stared, until Morgana pulled herself sitting up, weak and drained, and met his eyes.

“Your cage is gone,” she said weakly. “You can move now.”

He reached out his hand and realised she was right. The invisible cage place there by her magic has vanished. Mordred rushed to her side and took her hands, which made her smile a very sad smile as she gazed up at him.

“Oh, Mordred…” she said gently. “I need you to deliver a message for me. And…a request.”

*****

Gwen was not surprised at how quickly Arthur gathered the council together once they were all back in the palace. It was barely one hour after they had ridden through the streets towards their home, and Gwen was still recovering from that wonderful experience.

As always, messengers had been sent on ahead to inform everyone of the result of the battle, and it became clear those messengers had held nothing back. The cheers that erupted around them were not just for Arthur and his knights; they were for Merlin, too. Word had spread quickly about the sorcerer who had saved them all from Morgana, and who that sorcerer was. Merlin’s name was shouted as much as Arthur’s by the commoners they passed. Gwen wanted to laugh as she recalled the embarrassment and joy in Merlin’s shy smile, and the absolute delight in Arthur as he rode next to Merlin, openly took his hand and kissed it for everyone to see.

And now, Arthur stood before the council members with a fierce look in his eyes as his voice rang through the room.

“You have all heard what happened,” he said. “One person’s bad choices forced us into a tragic battle, but one person’s choices saved us all. For years, I have tried to tell you that magic is not good or evil; _people_ are. I hope you can see that now. I hope you could hear the cheers that shook every building in Camelot as the people welcomed us back. That was as much for the Knights of Camelot as it was for the sorcerer who turned the tide and brought us to victory. Without that sorcerer, we would not have peace.”

Arthur looked around, meeting the eyes of each and every person at the table, forcing them to hear him and daring them to say he was wrong. Gwen watched as even the most sceptical and most anti-magic of the men looked back at the king with a certain reluctant acceptance, and she smiled proudly at her friend’s words.

“The saviour of Camelot has magic,” Arthur continued. “And he should not have to hide that from the very people he has saved. Neither should anyone else with magic. I do not want any citizen of Camelot to be live in fear because of who they are. That is why I refuse to wait any longer. Every person who has ever suffered under the magic ban, don’t deserve to live in fear for one more day. So I ask you. Who is with me?”

*****

When Mordred had intercepted them on their way back home from Camlann, they had all been shocked but relieved. Even more shocked when he had revealed that Morgana had let him go of her own free will. When Mordred had mentioned she had sent him with a message, Arthur had instantly grown suspicious. He refused to even hear the message until Merlin had used all kinds of spells and tests to ensure that Mordred was truly himself, which Merlin had been doing ever since they got back.

Arthur rushed to the physician’s chamber the instant he got out of the council chamber. He had given the men one hour to decide on their final vote, and Arthur wasn’t going to wait that long to hear Morgana’s message.

“Well?” he asked as he ran through the door.

“He’s clean,” Merlin announced. “Mordred is Mordred; there is no one else in there.”

“Thank you for the clean bill of health,” Mordred said. The two sorcerers shared an amused smile and Arthur realised they were mocking him.

“Excuse me for being careful,” he said defensively, and indicated they should all sit down, which they did. “Alright, let’s have this message, then.”

Mordred looked at Merlin, then Arthur. “Morgana wants to meet with the two of you, at the same place as last time.” He held up his hand before Arthur could release all the objections he had to _that_ idea. “She says you can bring however many soldiers you want, she doesn’t care.”

That gave Arthur some pause. “Why would she agree to that?”

“Because she wants to surrender, my lord.” Mordred turned to Merlin. “I don’t know how or why but our words went through to her in the end. She doesn’t want to die, but she is willing to take her punishment, to be imprisoned for the rest of her life for all her crimes.”

“She cannot possibly expect us to believe that,” Arthur said, but Merlin was staring at Mordred with renewed hope.

“You sound certain,” Merlin said. “What did she do to convince you?”

“You’re not going to believe it,” Mordred said. “I barely do, and I witnessed it with my own two eyes. I know it was real. She said she needed to make sure she wasn’t a threat to anyone, ever again, or she didn’t deserve mercy.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Arthur asked.

“She used the gean canach, didn’t she?” Merlin asked quietly.

Mordred’s eyes widened. “How did–”

“It’s what I would have done in her position.” Merlin looked at Arthur, who was still trying to understand. “She did to herself what she did to me, Arthur. She has no magic anymore.”

Arthur’s mouth was too dry for him to speak. He trusted Mordred but… After everything Morgana had done, he struggled to let himself believe. He knew that Morgana without magic didn’t turn her back into the girl he has grown up with, it didn’t erase all the people she had killed and the hurt she had caused, and yet…

“Does she truly want redemption?” Arthur asked. “Or is she just trying to save herself?”

Mordred fixed his dark gaze on the king. “You should ask her that yourself, my lord, but the way she looked at me when she let me go… I believe she longs for redemption.”

“Then we’ll go,” Merlin declared. “Arthur and me. We won’t risk anyone else, just in case, but I doubt she is a threat anymore.”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Arthur would have taken the time to admire how confidently Merlin made that decision, without looking to Arthur first for confirmation. It seemed Merlin had finally understood that when it came to all things magic, he was the proper authority.

“Alright,” Arthur agreed. “We’ll go after the council meeting.”

“I want to talk to Lancelot and Gwen first,” Merlin added. “They have been hurt as much as any of us, they deserve a say in this.”

Arthur agreed, and after settling on the details, he returned to the council chamber, eager to hear their final decision.

*

Merlin agreed to Arthur’s request to scope the area inside and around the dilapidated cabin before he came near it, though he didn’t think it was necessary. Still, if it put Arthur more at ease, he wouldn’t argue.

When he was satisfied, Arthur came back to Merlin and took his hand. “All clear, no sign of her yet. Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“Are you?” Merlin returned with concern. “She’s not _my_ sister.”

“In truth, I don’t know. I am…afraid, of this being a trap, of her hurting you again. And I’m afraid of this not being a trap, and seeing her again as something other than the enemy she has been for so many years.”

Merlin rested his free hand against Arthur’s cheek. “No matter what happens, we will face it together. It’s going to be alright, I believe that.”

This brought a small smile to Arthur’s lips. “Genuine optimism? From _my_ Merlin? What on earth did that Crystal Cave do to you?”

Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Don’t worry, I’m certain I’ll be back to my usual, realistic self as soon as the rush of victory fades.”

“Something to look forward to,” Arthur teased, and then his smile faded. “Let’s go.”

He nodded, and allowed Arthur to lead the way to the hut. It was still empty when they got there, but they didn’t have to wait for long.

Merlin wasn’t sure what he had expected. He knew Mordred had told the truth, and he had seen his own reflection when he had lost his own magic, but that still had not prepared him for the sight of her.

Morgana looked the same as the last time he saw her, except she had her arms wrapped around herself, and she looked so unexpectedly helpless. Her green eyes that had radiated nothing but loathing for so long, now barely looked at them before lowering to the floor in shame. Somehow Merlin had never expected her to be ashamed.

“It’s true,” Arthur said, his shock echoing Merlin’s own.

Morgana looked at him. “Do I look so different?”

“Yes and no,” Arthur replied, his hand grasping Merlin’s like a lifeline. “You remind me of how you looked years and years ago, when you were terrified of your nightmares and desperate for assurance.”

The sound that escaped her was almost a laugh. “The same fear, perhaps, without any of the innocence. That has been wiped away by the person I’ve been since.”

“Morgana…” Merlin wasn’t quite sure what to say, but her eyes met his the instant he spoke her name and she took a tentative step forward, only to stop as if realising what she was doing. She lowered her gaze again.

“I don’t know where to begin,” she said in a small voice so entirely unlike the last few times he had seen her. “Without Mordred’s words, your words, I would be here wanting nothing but to drive a dagger into Arthur’s heart.” Her voice cracked a little on Arthur’s name.

“And what do you want now, instead?” Merlin asked, glad for his hold on Arthur’s hand.

“I don’t… Everything is so confusing,” Morgana said. “Since you returned my memories, it’s as though I can see every action I’ve taken in the years since in a new light. I still… _feel_ , everything I’ve felt, I still understand why I have done everything I’ve done, but it doesn’t… I have lost my conviction. My absolute certainty that I was doing what I had to.”

“Regaining your memories, losing your magic, these things don’t make you a different person,” Merlin replied. “But I think it’s brought the person you used to be closer to the surface again, allowing you to view the world through her eyes.”

“I think I wish I could be that person again,” Morgana said weakly. “Like Mordred told me, like Gwen…”

“Gwen?” Arthur asked.

“She asked me to send Morgana a letter, after the battle,” Merlin clarified.

“Must have been one hell of a letter,” Arthur said, staring at Morgana.

“It was,” she replied. “And it reminded me of how tired I am of being guided by hatred and jealousy. I don’t want that anymore. But…I don’t want to die, either. I want to find myself again, the Morgana you remember, that _I_ remember now. I need to answer for everything I have done, but I don’t want to die with you only remembering the villain I became.”

“I don’t want that either,” Arthur said, trying to control the emotions Merlin could hear in his voice. “We discussed it, before we came here. We all agree that you need to pay for your crimes. You’ve hurt and killed too many innocent people, that cannot go unanswered.”

Morgana nodded, once more lowering her eyes in shame.

“In the end, the majority of us agreed,” Merlin said. “It was difficult, but we agree that this new peace should not start with more death.”

“That’s why we decided on imprisonment,” Arthur finished. “For the rest of your life, Morgana. You will never be released.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Morgana said quietly. “Even without my magic, I shouldn’t be allowed back into the world. Lock me up.” She looked up at them with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for sparing my life. For giving me a chance to become myself again.”

Merlin wasn’t quite certain when they had all started quietly crying, but it seemed they were all determined to pretend they weren’t. He knew what they were all thinking.

No matter how badly they all wished for it, they knew Morgana could never be forgiven for all the tragedy she caused. They could see the change in her, but they knew that it wasn’t enough, that it could never be enough. Yet they all still wished it could be.

Merlin could feel how Arthur wished he could go and take his sister in his arms and tell her it would all be okay. He could see how Morgana wished for the same thing. They all just wished that everything could be different, but those were wishes that would never come true.

But perhaps one day, parts of them could.

*****

The month following the battle at Camlann was a hectic one. It seemed everyone in the kingdom was tense for various reasons, not the least of which was Morgana’s presence in the palace – which was not in the dungeons.

Arthur had arranged for a set of rooms in the tallest tower of the palace to be turned into a place that was fit to live in as much as it was a safely guarded prison. It was not luxurious by any means, yet he had received a lot of harsh judgment for this decision. He’d argued it was a show of goodwill for Morgana turning herself in and removing her own magic. His family was proud of him for not backing down.

Mordred had volunteered to be in charge of Morgana’s imprisonment, which Arthur had wholeheartedly accepted. Mordred was the best choice, as he loathed Morgana’s crimes enough to never let her escape, but he loved her enough to help her find her old self again. He had also been spending more time with Merlin than before, and it was heart-warming to see Merlin naturally fall into the role of mentor to the young man, more so than he had been before.

Everyone was taken by surprise when Gwen declared her intention to visit Morgana in her prison tower. She was the last one anyone expected to give Morgana a chance, even those few who knew that Gwen had sent Morgana a letter. Even they had no idea what that letter had contained. Lancelot was surprised more than anyone.

“Are you certain?” he asked, though there was no judgment in his voice. Only concern, and love, and that made Gwen feel so safe. She took both his hands in hers and smiled.

“I am,” she said. “In my letter, I suggested a deal with Morgana, and I need to start honouring my part of it.”

“You owe her nothing, you know,” Lancelot said gently.

“I know,” she agreed. “But I owe… someone else.”

Lancelot turned quizzical. “What do you mean?”

Gwen grinned up at him. “I will tell you, I promise. You, Arthur and Merlin, but first I need to know that Morgana will be true to her word.”

Lancelot considered her for a long time, and Gwen felt as though he could read her thoughts, or perhaps it was her smile and the spark in her eye that he could read so well. He did know her better than anyone.

“You’re not… That is to say, you’re not suggesting that…” Lancelot fumbled for words, but he was quickly beginning to smile. Gwen laughed.

“No guessing,” she teased. “I will find you and the others after, I promise.”

Lancelot brought their joined hands up and kissed each one of her fingers, and she loved him more than ever. “Looking forward to it, my lady.”

Gwen enjoyed the moment as long as it lasted, and then she pulled herself together and climbed the stairs to the tallest tower in the palace.

Mordred was on guard outside with one other man, and he let her in without any questions. She offered him a grateful smile for that. When he closed the door behind her, Gwen looked around the sparsely furnished room. Morgana sat in a chair by one of the small windows. She stood the moment she realised she had company.

“Gwe– Your Majesty,” Morgana corrected herself and even bowed her head in respect. That alone told Gwen how much Morgana was already changing. Or trying to.

“You never made me stand on ceremony,” Gwen said, forcing her tone to stay flat and neutral. “There is no reason to change that now.”

Morgana kept her eyes downcast, mostly, only hesitating curious glances in Gwen’s direction. It was strange to see Morgana so timid. She had never been like that, not ever. It would have seemed like a pathetic attempt at gaining sympathy if it wasn’t so obviously genuine.

“Arthur told me you received my letter,” Gwen said after a lengthy silence.

“I did,” Morgana replied. “Do they know?”

“Not yet,” Gwen said. “I didn’t want it to distract them during the battle.”

“Of course.” Morgana hesitated, but clearly wanted to say more. Gwen waited. Finally, Morgana looked back up at her. “Your letter is the reason I ultimately made the choice I made. I was close already, after everything, but it was your proposal that settled it.”

“I… I’m glad,” Gwen said, swallowing against her dry throat. “But I need to say this. You killed my brother. You turned my mind against me and made me murder an innocent man, not to mention everything else I did while under your control. I cannot say that I will _ever_ forgive you for any of that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Morgana said quickly. “Truly, I don’t think I could live with myself if you did.”

Gwen considered that for a moment and carried on. “I meant what I wrote, though. I miss my best friend. She was the kindest person I knew before she chose the path of hate instead of love. My life, even with everything that followed, would have been bleaker if I hadn’t known that person.” Gwen paused and took a deep breath, her hands automatically settling on her stomach. “I would like it very much if my child had the opportunity to know that person, too.”

She had found out shortly before they left for Camlann, and Gaius had confirmed it a few weeks after. He had been sworn to silence, but that didn’t keep him from warmly embracing her whenever they crossed paths and telling her how happy this made him.

“The proposal I offered,” Gwen said. “I need to hear you swear to it, or I won’t be able to even begin upholding my end.” She took a few tentative steps closer to Morgana. “I will try my best to forgive you, Morgana, if you can swear to me on your life that you will try every day for the rest of your life to once again become someone who is worthy of knowing my child.”

Morgana met her gaze once more, and there was a fierceness there that reminded Gwen more of her friend than of her enemy. “I swear it, Gwen. On my life. Nothing would make me happier than to deserve your friendship again or to watch you be what I know will be a wonderful mother. But no matter how hard I work or how much I change, do you think Arthur or Lancelot would ever allow me to even meet your child?”

Gwen didn’t have to ask what she meant. She knew that any child of hers and Lancelot was as much of a child to Arthur and Merlin – and would be named heir to the throne. It had been part of the many discussions the four of them had years ago, before they entered their arrangement. This child would be more loved than any other in all of Camelot, she had no doubt. The heir to the throne of Camelot would have four parents, would have three incredible fathers who would love their child with all their hearts.

“If you can keep your promise to me,” Gwen said, “I know Arthur would want more than anything for the child to know his sister. And even if that was not the case, none of them would stop me if I wanted you to meet my child. They trust my judgment.”

It felt so comforting to know that those words were true. Gwen’s faith in her family was endless and eternal as the sky, and her love for them was deeper than the seas.

“Do we have an agreement?” Gwen asked. She surprised herself somewhat by holding out her hand in the space between them. Morgana stared at it like it was a trick, like she might be struck down if she took it. She glanced up at Gwen’s eyes. Whatever she saw there, it seemed she had faith in it.

Morgana shook Gwen’s hand. “We have an agreement.”

The two looked at each other for a long moment, their hands clasped between them. When they let go and Gwen walked back down the twisting staircase to the palace, she felt in her heart that she had made the right decision, difficult as it was.

She smiled as she neared the bottom of the stairs.

She had happy news to share with her family.

*

Arthur stood on the balcony and looked out at the crowd gathered to hear his announcement. It seemed every citizen of Camelot tried to fit into the square. It pleased him that most sets of eyes looked up with excited anticipation instead of seething anger. He knew that in the weeks where the information was spread throughout the kingdom, not everyone had been convinced that Arthur’s decision was the right one, but he was pleasantly surprised that the ones who disagreed seemed to be in the minority.

Arthur waited for the vast crowd to settle. He glanced briefly sideways to where Gwen stood in all her finery towards the side of the balcony. She gave him a happy smile. He nodded at her unspoken reassurance, breathed deeply, and welcomed the crowds.

“You all know why we are here.” He made his voice echo as far as he could. “You’ve seen the declarations hanging in every town and on every road these past weeks. I did not want this to come as a shock, for all of our sakes. But as of today, from this moment forward, the new law stands true. I, Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, declare that the decades long ban on magic and sorcery...is lifted.” He raised his hand to quiet the surge of the people. “From this moment onward, citizens of Camelot will be judged based on their actions and their words. _Not_ on their abilities or for who they are.”

Arthur paused for a long moment and listened to the cheers that ran through the square. A few sounds of dissent could be heard, but they were easily drowned out by the overwhelming cheers of approval and support. When Arthur once again gestured for silence, he felt himself turn almost giddy – which most self-respecting kings would never admit to.

“To ensure that all people with magic are treated fairly, and that any magical threat is properly addressed, I have appointed an advisor to the throne. A Court Sorcerer to guide myself and the Queen in all such matters. I hope you all trust I’ve made the right choice.”

Arthur turned and held his arm out towards the wall behind him where, in new blue robes, Merlin stood pressed against the stones as if hoping to become one of them. The knights around him laughed, and Gwaine and Percival each put a hand on Merlin’s shoulders and gave him a good shove forwards.

The moment Merlin was beside Arthur, in view of the crowd, the sounds became deafening. The cheers were louder than anything Arthur had ever heard. The smiles on people’s faces as they looked at Merlin in awe, as they held up their children for a closer look at the sorcerer who had saved all of Camelot with his magic and his good heart…

Arthur was not ashamed of the tears of joy he felt forming, but he blinked them away because nothing, nothing would obstruct his view as he stared at Merlin taking it all in.

Merlin looked out over the people as if he wasn’t sure they were real. He even glanced at Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, any of his friends every so often as if to ensure they were all truly there, that this wasn’t an elaborate dream. When someone in the crowd began to shout Merlin’s name, his mouth actually fell open. Tears he didn’t seem aware of fell silently down his face.

Arthur watched as for the first time in his entire life, Merlin received the gratitude and credit he so deserved but never asked for. He watched as Merlin was finally celebrated for everything he had done for Camelot, even if the people below didn’t know the half of it.

Merlin turned and met Arthur’s eyes, and Arthur could have been knocked over by the power of that smile on Merlin’s face. The joy radiating from Merlin’s eyes was everything Arthur ever wanted for him.

It was such a beautiful sight that Arthur didn’t care who was watching. He took Merlin’s hand and moved beside him, so close to press a soft kiss to Merlin’s cheek and whisper in his ear.

“This is what you deserve, Merlin,” Arthur said with all his heart.

And for once, as they both gazed over the celebrating crowd, Arthur saw his pride reflected in the eyes of the people.

Exactly as it should be.

*****

Merlin and Arthur lay fully clothed on their bed, both too exhausted and happy to have the energy to do anything but collapse atop the bed in each other’s arms.

“Long day,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s hair.

“Eventful day,” Merlin concurred. He tightened his hold around Arthur and burrowed his face into the softness of Arthur’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of the man he loved.

“A child,” Arthur breathed. “I can hardly believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Merlin said, “but I know I couldn’t be happier about it.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Did you see Lancelot? I thought he might explode with joy.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did,” Arthur chuckled.

A comfortable silence fell as they held each other, and a contentment settled over them that they had never really had before.

“How does it feel?” Arthur asked after a while. “To finally have the recognition you deserve?”

“Strange,” Merlin admitted. “Though I do like the robes you had made.”

“I love you in that shade of blue. Somehow makes you even more beautiful.”

Merlin felt his blush, and Arthur’s small kiss to the tip of his ear confirmed it. “Thank you, Arthur,” he said. “For keeping your promise. I knew you would.”

Arthur pulled Merlin even closer towards him, though they were already close as could be. “I am sorry it took so long,” he said. “You deserve this, Merlin. You deserve everything in the whole world.”

Merlin lifted himself enough that he could look into Arthur’s eyes while remaining just as closely pressed against him. “I have the whole world,” he said. “I have it right here in my arms.”

There was so much love in Arthur’s eyes that Merlin couldn’t stop from kissing him. It was soft and gentle and the truest thing in the world.

“You know,” Merlin said, resting his forehead against Arthur’s. “After everything we have been through… Of all the roads we could have walked, I am so very happy that our choices led us down this one. All the heartache and pain, I wouldn’t change anything for this life, this moment, with you.”

Arthur kissed him again, and it tasted like love, and of a future full of peace and happiness and hope. Arthur and Merlin kissed for a long, long time, and it tasted like forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr at https://raincs.tumblr.com/ , and if you wanna by me a kofi, you can do that here https://ko-fi.com/raincs <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments joy to my heart and do wonders for my mental wellbeing, if you want to leave them ♥️
> 
> You can come shriek at me about multiple fandoms on tumblr @mx-riley and I hope you're being kind and taking care of yourself in these hard times. Did you take your meds today? 😘
> 
> MASSIVE thanks to my fantastic beta who is just *chef kiss* the greatest.


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